Avatar: Legend of the Arbiter
by Williamson Knox
Summary: After a century of war, the four nations now enjoy a new era of peace and prosperity. But all is not well as several convoys of exploratory vessels go missing. In their investigations, Team Avatar stumbles upon a strange new world...enter the Metal Empire (based on Ancient Rome/Imperial Britain)...the Wood Clans (Ancient Celtic/Medieval Scottish)...and the mysterious Arbiter.
1. Chapter 1

**Avatar: Legend of the Arbiter**

Book 1: Wood ~ Ch. 1: Vanishings

Long ago, the Wood Clans lived together... well... more or less peacefully.

Then, one day, the Metal Empire attacked.

We were once a proud and strong nation, united by bonds of friendship and brotherhood; but old feuds and grievances divided us... and we fell...

Not even the Arbiter, master of both elements, could save us.

It now falls to me, the newly anointed Arbiter, to maintain peace and balance between the now humbled Wood Clans and their Imperial occupiers.

It used to be the Arbiters duty, once found by the Draconian clerics, to mediate between our world and that of the spirits of nature and the souls of our ancestors.

Now it is my burden to stand between the disgruntled Clans and the pompous Imperials, whose hold grows tighter with each passing year.

I strove to be worthy of my weighty station, to keep the two nations from descending into civil war.

Each day was a new challenge, but I resolved to face each tribulation head on...

but I despaired when my compatriots, the clerics, disclosed a dismaying secret...

that on the other side of the world their lay four nations, each more alien and backwards than the next and that they were united in a cause to rebuild their war-torn countries and explore beyond the limits of their realm.

It was now my duty to keep both of our worlds separate...

I was beleaguered... if the disparate clans of one small island nation could not accept each other and live in harmony, how could two worlds...

**An Ominous Message **

"Each individual in this world is as unique as the pattern of veins on a peach blossom..." recited the monk. The morning sun shone brightly through the soft pink petals of a lone peach tree. Its warm light washed the vivid orange robes of the Air Acolytes with a warm, dappled glow. They sat attentively in a shallow semi-circle around their young, bald teacher and inhaled his every word along with the crisp, morning air. The monk lifted a tiny bloom up to his tattooed forehead, letting the light of the peach skinned dawn sift through its translucent surface and emerge as a rosy glimmer. "... just as this blossom filters the light of the sun, we filter our experiences in life, based on how we've grown, on how the veins of time have woven their way through us..."

The monk, using a wisp of bended air from his sigh, suspended the petal on the warm morning breeze that wafted its way over the Western Air Temple every morning. It carried with it the blossom, as well as the last inklings of warmth from the cloud-covered night before. The Acolytes shivered from the bitter chill, but still kept their unwavering attention on the young air-bender's words. "We are each a blossom from the same tree, each of us shining with our own light, yet most people see only the different hues cast by their fellow petals instead of the branches that tie them together..." The young master cast his eyes towards his pupils, all females, with their foreheads bearing similar blue, arrow shaped tattoos; tattoos that marked them as disciples of the Air Nomads, the tattoos that bonded them to this hundred-and-fifteen year old boy and the long departed culture that he preserved. "... and like that petal that I surrendered to the air currents, so do we become dispersed from the tree that unites us all."

The boy shifted his gaze to the lower right of his congregation. He reached into the annals of his mind, attempting to procure a memory, a fond memory, by reaching across vast recesses of pain and grief... now assuaged, but never forgotten. "Only by learning to tolerate each other's differences and diversities can new life bloom on the tree from which we all spring. My mentor and friend, Monk Gyatso, once told me that those who are best suited to teach us tolerance are those we disagree with or consider our enemies." Just then, a tall, dark figure appeared at the gated threshold of the courtyard... or rather it loitered there for some time before being noticed by the monk. The silhouette belonged to a tall, young man of at least 19 years, garbed in regal, sharp robes of muted red. His attire culminated with a golden, flame shaped comb worn in his drawn-up hair. The stranger adorned his face with a half-smile that hung below the scar engulfing his left eye. The monk ascended gracefully from his cross legged seating position to acknowledge the newcomer. "That concludes our session for this morning, go ahead and resume your meditation in the shrine, I'll be with you shortly." The master bowed to his students, and with reciprocal bows the Acolytes rose to their feet and shuffled off through the western gate, leaving the monk and his guest alone in the courtyard.

"What brings you here your highness, the fresh air, the aura of tranquility and harmony?" inquired the monk.

"None of those I'm afraid," the Fire Lord replied with a staid tone. "I was on my way to a conference in Republic City when I decided to stop and visit a friend of mine who has been oddly reclusive lately," said the monarch, finishing his statement in a warmer manner. "It's good to see you Aang."

"You too Zuko," said the Avatar as they drew together in a warm embrace. "It's been too long."

The pair strolled together through the temple's foyer as it was being meticulously restored by a few of the Acolytes. After admiring the newly refurbished murals, they continued out through the vaulted ceilings towards the western courtyard. There was a momentary, and somewhat tense silence that was broken when Aang asked, "How is Katara, I hear that she's been working with Sokka in Republic City when I last left her." His gaze drifted poignantly to his reflection in a nearby pond before adding, "I miss her a lot."

"They're both doing well as far as I know; it's been a while since I've attended one of the Republic's sessions, they kind of bore me to be honest." There was more silence as the two passed under the shade of a large tree that sheltered a white stone bench. "You would know the answer to that question if you had stayed."

Aang sighed. "I know." He sunk down on the bench, looking downcast. "I just... didn't feel up to the task..."

"What do you mean," Zuko asked. "Not up to the task? You're the Avatar..." Zuko sat down on the bench beside his friend. "You saved the world from destruction and restored balance and harmony... If anyone's qualified to take part in the birth of a new nation, it's you," said Zuko with a warm smile.

"Well..." he began, "you and Sokka always knew more about 'government policies' and 'diplomacy' than I did. I was raised to be a simple monk, detached from worldly concerns and free from politics and bureaucracy and... all those things. I guess I just decided to stick to what I knew best." Aang gave a brief reflective pause before continuing. "Looking back, I think I made the wrong choice coming here." He briefly tensed up before adding, "I mean... I like teaching the Acolytes, don't get me wrong. They're so attentive and dedicated, it's an honor, and they keep great company and everything and..." Aang stumbled over himself as his concerned companion listened with sincerity. "I'm trying to say that I might not have rid myself of all my worldly attachments. Missing the people I care about has been... painful."

Zuko extended his hand and placed it on his best friend's shoulder. "I know what you mean," he said looking Aang in the eye. "It's been like that for me a lot recently. If it weren't for Uncle, I wouldn't have a friend beside me." Zuko then looked away with compunction, as though he too felt alone, as though he too was missing someone...

"Anyway..." he resumed. "I have a favor to ask of you."

"What sort of favor," Aang inquired. Zuko rose to his feet and strode towards the reflecting pool, shaded by the overhanging tree and dotted with golden-orange leaves.

"There have been strange things going on with the outer colonies and exploratory fleets, strange... disappearances." Aang sat up, looking anxious as his friend turned back towards him. "It's like nothing we've ever seen before; we find Fire Navy ships that were assigned for scouting and exploration, either missing or completely derelict and drifting towards our borders as though the crews had just vanished into thin air." Aang rose to his feet and approached Zuko, listening intently to his worrisome report. "And that's not all; our patrols have encountered supply depots that were established in the far western islands to supply those fleets... they were abandoned too. There wasn't a sign of struggle, no stolen cargo, no messages, not even any messenger hawks... no pirate or slaver did this." Zuko scowled. "I knew something like this would happen, it was only a matter of time. I knew it was a bad idea to expand so aggressively, everyone was just so ambitious, so eager to take part in this new 'renaissance'." Zuko bowed his head. "What's worse is that it all happened..." he said as he frowned at his reflection in the water, "... under my watch".

"Don't blame yourself", Aang said. "You've only been Fire Lord for a few years, but a lot can still happen in that time."

"Still... I-"

"And don't worry; you still have friends that are willing to help you. I'll gladly offer my service if there's anything I can do."

"You don't have to make a decision right now; I know I'm asking a lot of you. I know how important to you all of this is," Zuko said, beckoning towards the temple's majestic turrets and serene spires.

"Helping my friends is important to me," Aang said. "And you're right. I should be playing a greater role out in the world. Peace has just been restored and it's up to the Avatar to keep it that way. I'm sure the Acolytes will understand... I'm not sitting this one out." Aang gave his friend a smile and a brief nod of reassurance, watching as relief slowly slackened the tension in Zuko's scarred face.

"Thank you Aang", the Fire Lord said with a slight bow, his half-smile now restored. "It means a lot to hear you say that." The two companions kept walking under the shade of the overhanging trees, along the cobbled stone path through the gardens. "Normally we would handle such situations ourselves, but as these raids penetrate deeper into Fire Nation territory, the more the people grow worried," Zuko added. "A lot of rumors have been springing up, ranging from natural disasters and plagues to attacks by restless spirits. If people knew the Avatar was overseeing the investigation, it might alleviate public concerns and make us better able to deal with the situation."

"I'm your Avatar," Aang said.

"Good," Zuko replied. "Our first stop will be in Republic City. We'll meet up with the rest of the Fire Navy and start a search of the areas surrounding the abandoned colonies," he continued. "While we're there, we'll be able to meet up with some old friends," he added.

Aang's heart skipped a beat at this news. "That's great, so... when are we leaving."

"Tomorrow, if you're up for it."

"Fantastic! I mean... I'll make arrangements with the Acolytes for when I'm gone."

"Splendid," Zuko remarked with a smirk.

Zuko was shown to the guest quarters by one of the Acolytes while Aang finished his daily sessions with his pupils before announcing his departure to them. After they all bid him a preliminary farewell, Aang went to go spend the rest of the evening catching up with Zuko. The night began with a game of Pai-Sho over a cup of tea and then progressed with a lively discussion about meditation and calisthenics techniques. The conversation then drifted to obscure friends, the state of the weather and then dismally wandered to politics and diplomatic affairs. It most particularly concerned politics in fact. Politics and how boring politics can be, how boring politicians can be, how fun it can be to set fire to the pants of a certain politician you don't agree with from down the hall and run like mad before he figures out who did it. All-in-all, it could've been considered an enjoyable end to the day. Unfortunately for Aang, it didn't last.

All that night, Aang lay awake anxiously waiting for the following morning. "_At long last_," he thought. "_I'll finally be able to see Katara again_." The Avatar rolled over on his side. "_Ohhh, why did I ever leave_?" He knew the answer to his question. "_What more would I have been to her than just an extra, useless appendage. Sokka and Zuko are all natural leaders, real men, and I'm just a young monk; practically a boy_." Aang stared out the window towards the moon and recalled a bitter memory of when he and his friends visited a play on Ember Island several years ago.

His heart welled up with a cold, panging feeling as he rolled onto his side and curled himself into a fetal position. He laid that way for a while, letting the feeling throb within his chest and spread a cascading, chilling sensation down through his whole body. This pain he had felt many a night for almost a year, ever since deciding to leave Republic City for the Western Air Temple. Aang extended himself back out over his mat, grasped his head pillow and drew it in close to his body, pressing it close to his chest as if to numb this ache that he felt deep within his heart.

Then, he pictured himself and Katara, standing alone on the balcony at Ba-Sing-Se. He could almost feel Katara's warm body, safe in his arms as they embraced and shared a soft kiss under the blazing orange sky. He could almost see into her deep blue eyes and hear her soft, sonorous voice telling him that things would be alright from now on, that they would be together again at last. With that, Aang's icy grip of despair lessened its hold. The cavity he had felt in his chest started to thaw with the anticipation of being reunited with the one he loved. "_I'm sorry I left you Katara_," he thought. "_I'm coming back to you_." He paused and once again looked out his window into the dark, deep-blue sky. "I love you," he whispered to the night. He slowly drifted off to sleep and his dreams were filled with sweet visions of their tender reunion.

"Master Aang". _Knock, knock, knock_. "Master Aang". _Knock, knock, knock_.

"Wha-why are you calling me master, Katara?" Aang mumbled, still asleep.

"Master Aang" one of the Acolytes said on the other side of the door. "I am sorry to wake you, but Lord Zuko insisted. He says it is urgent."

"No... no, Katara's my girlfriend, Zuko can get his own," he muttered non-coherently, still not roused from his slumber.

"Master Aang!"

"Uhh... alright," Aang yawned as he slowly woke himself up. He groggily stumbled over to his clothes rack and slipped on his leggings and shawl, and struggled to fit his left foot into a shoe before he realized that it was a hat. He ambled out into the corridor, still shrugging of his drowsiness when Zuko came running down the hall. He was only half dressed with a piece of paper clenched in his fist and a wild look on his face to match his wild, unkempt hair.

"Aang, you're awake! I got a messenger hawk from Republic City, it's been attacked!"

"What!" Aang said, now fully alert with the shock of this news.

"We need to leave, now! The acolytes have already packed your saddle. Appa's waiting in the courtyard for us."

Aang rushed off after Zuko through the halls of the temple, flying through corridors and down stairwells, past tapestries and murals until finally emerging in the central courtyard where the Acolytes were gathered. Some of them were still packing Appa's large, rotund howdah as Zuko was climbing into it, changing into his tunic as he was doing so. "Come on!" implored Zuko. "The letter says it's urgent that we get there as fast as possible." Aang twirled his staff, propelling a jet of air below him that boosted him onto Appa's furry neck.

He took hold of the reins and addressed his Acolytes. "I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly, but a matter of great urgency has called me away. I don't know how long I'll be. Keep devoting yourselves to the ways of the Air Nomads. Keep their culture alive." They looked at their teacher with mournfully as they wove to him and bid him 'goodbye's, 'luck-be-with-you's, 'farewells' and 'all-speed's. "I'll be back," the Air master said with a final parting glance. With that, and continued farewells from his students, Aang's bison crawled out to the cliff outside the courtyard's entrance on his six furry, pillar like legs. With a crack on the reins and a firm, "Yip Yip," the bison issued a great bellow and took to the sky with his two passengers, leaving the Western Air temple and its devoted residents behind. They grew smaller and smaller as the bison climbed higher and higher. The Acolytes watched solemnly as they disappeared on the horizon.

Appa, with Aang and Zuko astride his broad shoulders, ascended above the clouds and into the azure upper troposphere. The sun was bright, the sky ahead a sea, and the wind an erratic series of battering rams. The bedlam of air pockets and wind shears, combined with the fretfulness and angst he was laboring under, made Aang's stomach want to heave as Appa was being churned like butter by the sky's treacherous terrain. "Now I really regret leaving Katara," Aang thought. "She could have been kidnapped or killed because I wasn't there. Oh if only Appa could fly faster-ahhhh!"Aang started and nearly fell off Appa's neck at having felt a rustle emanate from his bag. "Oh, it's just you Momo," said Aang after discovering that his Lemur-bat was the stow-away. The furry creature gave a series of little clicks and chatters as he crawled up Aang's back and struggled to stay perched on his shoulder as its large ears were tugged about by the wind. With a below of protest from Appa, Aang eased on the reigns. "Sorry buddy, I didn't mean to be so tense." Appa emitted another guttural growl of complaint, having nearly exhausted himself from plowing through the oppressive air currents. With accompanying whimpers from Momo, Aang relented. "Me too, I don't think I can take it anymore either," he moaned, clenching his stomach all the while.

"Me three!" Zuko shouted over the wind. Appa drifted down below the clouds where the wind ameliorated to a dull roar. Aang could hear Zuko spitting out his own hair which was being tossed about like chaff by the flurrying breezes.

"What exactly did the message say?" Aang projected back to Zuko.

"Ptew, Ptew, Ptew," was his reply. "Just give me a sec," Zuko stammered. He drew his hair up into a pony-tail and reached into his bag, pulling out the letter that the messenger hawk had delivered him. "It's a bit cryptic but here's what it basically says. 'Republic City... sustained attack by unknown assailant... defenses completely circumvented... took multiple captives including several delegates of the republic council... number and identity of assailants unknown... any and all assistance requested as soon as possible... circumstances matching those of previous anomalies... one difference... two eyewitnesses', and that's all it says." As Zuko finished reading the message, Aang's anxiety only worsened.

"_I don't even know what I'm up against. How am I supposed to fight someone... or something... that I can't identify. How am I supposed to save Katara!?_"

"Aang, relax!" Zuko urged, leaning over Appa's howdah. He could see the tension in Aang's shoulders and the distress in his eyes.

"You're right," he relinquished, letting out a deep sigh.

"We don't know exactly who got taken. Katara and Sokka might still be okay," Zuko said in an attempt to console his friend. Aang looked back at him, but the expression of worry that plastered itself on his face didn't change. "And besides, even if they did encounter trouble, they could handle it. Katara is a master water bender, and Sokka has really been... uhhh... 'improving' his swordsmanship skills. They're more than just a couple of green-horned sailors, they're real warriors; more than a match for anything the world could've thrown at them."With these words, some of Aang's tension dissolved, but didn't disappear.

"_Of course he's right. In fact, if I had been there, Katara probably would've had to rescue me-ha-ha_," Aang laughed to himself. But at this line of inner-dialogue came a twinge of that old feeling again. The cold, prickling feeling he knew all too well.

Appa kept flying for several hours, floating over fluffy clouds, flocks of screeching sea birds, and the deep blue ocean, crosshatched with white foam. The flying beast continued to cut his way across the sky until it evolved from a light turquoise to a dusky azure and then a ruddy orange until it finally settled on the deep indigo of early night. All the while the two friends sat in utter silence with only the sound of the sloshing ocean waves or the faint whisper of the sea breezes perforating the silence. Zuko spent most of the time asleep while Aang ruminated over his self-doubt. "Hugh," he sighed. "I still can't help feeling like this is my fault." Appa issued a soft grunt of reassurance from below. "Thanks buddy," Aang said, patting his bison. "But I'm still right."

"If anything it's my fault," Zuko said, having been roused from his nap by the bison's grunt. He started fumbling around his bag for his dress robes as he continued speaking. "I, as the Fire Lord should have participated more in the exploration efforts. It was the thing that mattered most to my people ever since we gave up the colonies," he added as he changed out of his casual garments and into his royal apparel. He finished slipping on his robe and shoes before continuing. "It was time for a fresh start in Fire Nation history and I missed it so I could lounge around in the Imperial palace, listen to boring lectures and attend conferences on foreign affairs." He began fixing his pony-tail into a bun, which he had great difficulty doing as Momo had settled on his head and had begun to play with it like a cat with a string. Zuko brushed him off and fixed his golden, flame shaped cone to his bun, completing his outfit. "But we can't keep beating ourselves up, as much as we'd like to; now's the time for action. How far are we from Republic City?"

"We're almost there. I think I can see it on the horizon."Aang pointed to a small light that pierced through the dark, blue night. Zuko leaned over Appa's howdah to get a better view. The light became brighter and brighter as Appa approached the mainland. The single light soon became many twinkling, orange-yellow flecks of opal adorning the faint outlines of houses and buildings. As Appa steadily descended towards the city's skyline, they could see all the buildings in greater detail, despite the hazy fog that draped itself over the bay. They saw tops of tiled roofs, arching pagodas, resolute spires, cambered roofs, wooden cantilevers and walls of white stucco and stone all forming the graceful exteriors of each building. As Appa approached further, they could see cobbled streets and alleyways being bathed with warm lamp light and traversed by the various denizens of the city all commingling and intermixing like grains of sand in a creek-bed. It was a beautiful city, despite its small size, and its citizens carried on their typical duties in this fair hub almost as though nothing had happened. While relieved by this, the two companions were also perplexed.

"The city looks pristine," Zuko said. "No smoke, no rubble, no screaming civilians. What is this?" Zuko and Aang looked at each other quizzically. They glided through the cold, salty night air and passed over the sails and awnings of the docked ships that dotted the harbor in multitudes, a display of the city's growing wealth and importance. As they got deeper into the web of wharfs and piers they could hear the deafening sounds of bells, foghorns as well as the shouts of busy sailors and barking dock masters.

"There," Aang declared, pointing towards one of the large dry-docks. "They're waiting for us." He was referring to a large congregation of stalwart looking men, some he recognized as being Fire Nation soldiers and others that he assumed were the new Republic City Guardsmen. They were easily distinguishable by the shiny armor they donned as well as the sloppy manner in which they were assembled. With a flick of the reigns, Aang directed Appa to land in the middle of the semi-circle formed by the awaiting soldiers.

The great beast descended like a furry typhoon, creating a whirl-wind as he alighted on his six stubby hooves. The inexperienced Guardsmen gawked at seeing this gargantuan monster drop out of the sky like a hairy meteor. One of the more weak kneed Guards let out a faint squeal. "Newbies," one of the Fire Nation soldiers chortled. As Appa settled on the dock, his passengers succinctly dismounted and approached their welcoming committee. Zuko alighted first with a graceful leap belying the fragility of his attire. Aang followed close behind with his staff in hand, lingering next to Appa while Zuko marched straight towards the Fire Nation officer standing stoically in front of his entourage.

"Commander Zhan, what is the meaning of this?" Zuko demanded in an imposing tone. "We were summoned here on account of an attack, yet it seems the only ones who have overrun this harbor are grimy sailors and merchants." Zuko looked especially intimidating in his royal trappings, even more so in the faint glow of the harbor lights which emphasized his tall, dark figure. Some of the guardsmen fidgeted in their armor, while the Fire Nation soldiers stood at perfect attention.

"Sir," the officer responded stolidly. "We were barely aware that an attack had occurred before the morning we sent you the message. We believe that it was a cleverly orchestrated stealth raid, sir."

"Apparently more clever than a certain few guards," Zuko remarked. The Guardsmen continued to fidget in their uniforms, with beads of sweat rolling down their poorly shaved faces. The Fire Nation soldiers remained perfectly still.

"This time we have witnesses, sir," the officer continued. "Although many of our guards and soldiers were incapacitated before they saw anything, one of them claimed to have caught a glimpse of the perpetrators before being detained, and our own captain of the guard claimed to have sighted an anomalous vessel departing the harbor."

"Who's this eyewitness?" Zuko inquired.

"She was one of the Kyoshi Warriors that guarded the council members' chambers. She's in the infirmary being tended by our medics."

"Take me to her," the Fire Lord promptly commanded.

"Yes sir," the commander replied with a bow and salute. He then executed an about-face and called his troops to attention. They fell in and marched out from the dock towards the harbor with the Guardsmen and the Fire Lord in step. Aang followed impatiently with Momo perched on his shoulder and Appa in tow behind him.

"Commander, do we know exactly who was taken?" Aang asked anxiously, catching up to the officer.

"Several Republican Guardsmen and Elite Fire Nation soldiers are missing sir, as well as most of the Kyoshi Warriors." Zuko looked agitated but continued marching. "We are still conducting head-counts, so it will be hard to tell who else is missing until they are all completed. Does that answer your question, sir?"Aang nodded glumly and lagged behind the formation, unsatisfied and unsettled by the officer's report. The column of soldiers continued marching their way out of the port's entrance, followed by their visitors, and headed towards the series of buildings that formed the Republic City Barracks. The officer halted his charges and split them into two columns, each facing the Fire Lord as he continued through the entrance with the officer on his flank. A Guardsman led Appa and Momo to the Komodo rhino stables, leaving Aang alone outside the barracks. He still meandered far behind with hopeless eyes and a bowed head, until he heard a familiar voice calling his name from down the street.

**Reunited**

"Aang!" it cried out with jubilation. Aang's head quickly jolted up and turned towards the source of the sound; a tall girl, wearing long flowing hair and Water Tribe garments ran towards him, smiling with joyous haste.

"Katara?" Aang said his eyes wide with astonishment. "Katara!" Aang dropped his staff and ran towards her, eyes streaming with joy and relief. They collided and embraced for the first time in their long year apart, wrapping their arms around each other like they had each dreamed for ages. Aang tightly caressed her warm shoulders and ran his fingers through her soft, flowing hair as it cascaded over her robes like a glistening waterfall. He breathed in her sweet scent, only begrudgingly exhaling it into the greedy, chilled air. Katara pressed her warm, soft cheek on his neck with blissfully closed eyes, savoring the tender moment under the moon's pale, silvery light."I'm so glad you're safe," Aang whispered into her ear.

Katara raised her head and looked deeply into his eyes. "I'm so glad your back," Katara whispered in return. Their heads drifted slowly towards each other. They pressed their foreheads together, still gazing into each other's pupils until, finally their lips met each other, and they shared a passionate kiss. One of the Guardsmen, looking on from afar, let out a tiny sob and wiped away a tear before one of his companions nudged him in the side and he snapped back to attention. They stayed locked in each other's arms for what seemed like an eternity. An eternity cut disappointingly short by Sokka.

"Oh I'm fine, just fine; don't worry about me..." he said approaching the couple. "But really Aang, I am touched by your concern." Katara shot him an annoyed glance, while Aang smiled and laughed.

"It's good to see you Sokka", he said as he bear-hugged his friend.

"You too Aang, h-whoa," he remarked, noticing Aang's stature. "You shot up a few inches, I'll barely be able to give you any of these anymore," Sokka said rubbing his fist on Aang's bald head. Aang and the two Water Tribe siblings laughed in unison and walked towards the Barracks, arm in arm. Just then, one of the Guards came running out of the building.

"Captain," the soldier addressed Sokka, issuing a salute. "The Fire Lord has requested your presence in the infirmary; he wants details regarding the attack."

"Tell the Fire Lord that the official, recently appointed, super important, Captain of the Republic City Guardsmen and witness to the events of the night before last..." said Sokka leaning towards Aang with a smug look on his face "... will be right there."

"You saw something from the attack?" Aang queried.

"Yep", replied Sokka in the same self-satisfied tone. "I'll tell you two lovebirds about it later, you know, after your done swapping phlegm." Sokka then abruptly turned away and marched haughtily after the Guardsman into the Barracks.

"Well, try not to take too long Captain of the Dorksmen!" Katara shot back with another irritated glance.

Aang chuckled and said, "Come on, maybe we should be a part of this too." Katara smiled, and they strolled into the barracks side-by-side, hand-in-hand.

Aang and Katara proceeded down the dark, secluded hallway leading towards the infirmary. Its muted red walls added to the gloominess. There was an occasional wall sconce that casted a faint glimmer, but the only true light came from the doorway to the infirmary. Sokka and the Guardsman had rounded the corner and disappeared into the pale yellow glow emanating from the junction in the hallway. Aang halted mid stride and looked at Katara.

"What is it Aang?" Katara asked with concern.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here Katara," Aang said with regret in his eyes. "So many people have been taken and I was too far away to do anything about it. But if something had happened to you, I don't know what I would have done."

"Well, nothing did happen to me, and that's what matters," Katara said, caressing Aang's cheek. "Besides, Sokka and I were here when it happened that night," Katara said with a troubled glance to her right. "We were all asleep and we didn't know what had happened until the morning after. We all woke up and found all the Guards unconscious and the senators missing. There wasn't a lot you could've done..."

At these last words, Aang's eyes shot away from Katara's. The cold void surged through his veins again. "Oh, I'm sorry", Katara said having seen the look in his eyes. "I didn't mean it like that." Aang took a step away from her and started sauntering down the corridor when Katara grabbed hold of his arm. "Is that why you left, you didn't feel like you were good enough to stay..." It sometimes shocked Aang, the way Katara was able to read him so well. But this time he almost felt relieved; he wouldn't have to explain the feelings that had been gnawing on him for so long. Katara always knew when you were feeling down on yourself or when you were confused, and she always knew what to say to put your mind at ease or point you in the right direction. Aang knew why he loved her.

"Aang, you've helped countless people purely out of the goodness of your own heart. You've done things that people twice your age would've been too unwilling, stubborn or afraid to do." Aang paused and faced Katara, looking into her kind face. "You're already more of a man than most men in this world claim to be. As long as you are who you are, I will always love you, and you will always be my hero." These words pierced Aang's heart like an arrow and shattered the dark tentacles of doubt that had clenched his soul for so many months. The cold, dreadful feel that had been his constant companion was now gone and replaced with new love, stronger than any he had before. Tears welled up in his eyes and he embraced Katara once more as they stood together in the long, dark hallway. In the darkness, their hearts merged and shined as brightly as Republic City on the horizon.

In the infirmary, Sokka, a doctor and a pair of soldiers stood by a bed, with Zuko perched on a stool besides it. The infirmary was dark, with only an accent of pale yellow lamp-light revealing the features of the room. There were rows of beds lined up along the walls and two in the middle, each facing outward. The room was half-full of other wounded soldiers and guards, most asleep or unconscious. The bed they were gathered around was occupied by an injured Kyoshi Warrior.

"Can she speak?" Zuko asked the medic. He nodded.

"Ty Lee. Can you hear me?"Zuko asked in a hushed voice. The girl slowly raised her eyelids and pivoted her head towards the man speaking to her.

"Oh, hey Zuko... I mean... agh!" She attempted to sit up, but strained herself doing so and leaned back into her bed. Her blankets, which were pulled up to her neck, receded, revealing a heavily bandaged torso, flecked with bruises and scars. "Sorry, I'd bow, but... cough, cough." The healer reached for a ladle, filled it with water and brought it up to her lips, cradling her head to let the water trickle gently down her damaged throat.

"It's okay," Zuko said. The healer finished feeding her the water and dabbed up some of the drops that had spilled on her bandages. "Can you tell us what happened?" he asked softly.

"Yes," Ty answered weakly. Her voice was dry and rasped like sandpaper being drawn over glass. It was almost as if someone had taken her cheerful, effervescent voice and dragged it helter-skelter through a nettle patch and left it to bleed out in a cold, soggy ditch. "It was late at night..." she began. "Everything seemed quiet. A few of the Kyoshi Warriors and I were flirting with some guards..." She blushed but continued. "... we heard something weird coming from outside the Capitol building... we rushed out to see what was going on... cough, cough." The healer reached out for the ladle, but Zuko stayed her hand. Just then, Aang and Katara entered the room. They quietly stood next to Sokka with looks of condolence and concern.

"Then... then, when we got there, we didn't see anything. Suki got worried and she ordered some of us to search the building and some others to comb the streets around it. We did. But we didn't find anything... We settled down and Suki decided it was just the wind, or some kids playing a prank... But the noise started up again, louder this time... It was some sort of humming." Everyone in the room, even the soldiers, leaned in closer to hear her words as they crawled their way out of the back of her mangled throat. "Wait... no... it wasn't humming it was more like... singing, or... whatever it was, it sounded really beautiful. But then my armor started to get really tight."

"What do you mean?" Zuko asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"It just started tightening itself around my chest... almost as if it had a mind of its own." The infirmary was completely soundless. They waited in silence for the Kyoshi Warrior to continue. "It hurt so much... I couldn't make a sound... I could barely breathe. I saw everyone else collapsed on the floor with me, and then, out of the corner of my eye... I could see shapes moving towards us from down the hall." Everyone listened with baited breath. "I was in so much pain I couldn't see straight, but... they looked like people... tall, grey people... they just floated over us... like they were..." She paused, looking for the right word to describe what she saw. "Weightless... they hovered over us, and... and..." Her eyes began to well up.

"Please Ty Lee, try to remember, this is important," Zuko urged, taking her hand in his. Her face was contorted and full of tears. She nodded.

"One of them looked at me sob... but he didn't have a... a ... a face."A chill spread through the room and up everyone's spine. Their eyes were widened in shock, dread, perplexity, or a combination of the three. Ty Lee continued to sob quietly. "I was so afraid... and in so much pain that I sniff... passed out, and when I woke up... all of the other Kyoshi Warriors were gone and I was sob... alone." Zuko's eyes widened and he sat up on his stool.

"Alone!" Sokka exclaimed. "Alone! You mean you're the only Kyoshi Warrior that didn't get taken! That means they got Suki! Why didn't anyone tell me!?..."

"Shhhhh...!" The healer hushed him.

"We didn't want you to panic. We needed you to stay calm until Aang and Zuko got here," Katara said, clutching Sokka's shoulder. His face contorted and a tear streamed down his cheek.

"She's been through enough tonight," the medic said. "Let her catch her breath."

"Thank you," Zuko said to the healer. "Don't worry Ty Lee, everything's going to be fine," he said with a false smile on his face.

"Thanks Zuko," she responded, attempting a smile in return. "You always make things better." She slowly closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Zuko rose from his stool and quietly, solemnly, marched out of the infirmary with the soldiers beside him. Sokka, with Aang clasping his shoulder, left the room next and Katara, after bidding the brave Kyoshi Warrior sweet dreams, departed last.

Sokka slumped himself on one of the benches in the mess hall. It would have been deserted, noiseless and dark, had it not been for the haunted individuals entering the room and the dim lamp-light illuminating the table. Aang sat beside him with Katara on his other flank. Zuko sat by himself on the other side of the table, clenching a cup of tea in his hands. The room's occupants sat in silence, pondering the unnerving details they had just received. The mess hall would usually have been a bright, warm place, echoing with the laughter of off-duty soldiers and wafting with the scent of good, hot meals. Now it was a dark place, filled with tension, cold, damp air, and silence. Zuko was the first to break it.

"What does it all mean?" Zuko thought out loud.

"What does it all mean?!" Sokka shot back in outrage. "It means we go and try to find Suki, that's what it means."Sokka was now standing up and shouting at Zuko. "What are we all doing just sitting here? We should be out looking for Suki... and the Kyoshi Warriors and... everybody! Now!"

"Calm down Sokka, we'll think of something," Katara urged. "We can't go running off without knowing what we're trying to find or where we're going." "Katara's right," Zuko said. "And besides, charging off without thinking is usually my specialty."

"Really funny," Sokka retorted.

"Guys, guys, let's just calm down and try to figure this out," Aang intervened. Sokka sighed and sunk back into his seat pouring his head into his palms. "Let's go over what we know. Ty Lee said that her armor constricted itself around her body. That makes me think of metal bending."

"But the only metal benders we know of are Toph and her students, but they would never do something like this," Katara said. "The only other explanation would be if somebody else had discovered metal bending besides Toph, but... I just don't know."

"She also said that her attackers didn't have faces," Aang pointed out. "That reminds of me of only one thing; Koh". Everyone gave Aang puzzled looks before he continued. "Koh is a spirit that delights in stealing the faces of his captives. I met him while I was exploring the Spirit World when the North Pole was under attack during the war. This has Koh written all over it."

"Well, this 'Koh' guy sounds evil, but would a spirit really be doing something like this?" Katara inquired.

"No, and that's the thing," Aang responded. "No spirit I've ever known of has ever been this aggressive. Even Hei Bai, the forest spirit, didn't go rogue without thinking he had good reason to be angry. Koh is one of the oldest spirits around. He should know better than this. I haven't got any other ideas," Aang said with resignation. "What about you Zuko?"

"My guess is as good as anyone else's concerning what were dealing with," Zuko replied. But we still need to know where to look if we're going to find whoever did this. Sokka, you said you saw something that might have been their vessel."

"I don't know. I saw something weird the morning after the attack. I saw some weird... I-dunno-what... leaving the harbor, fast." The other members of the group sat themselves up, listening carefully to his report. "Whatever it was, it seemed to gleam in the sunlight, and-I don't know but I'm guessing- it... floated above the water." More surprised glances accompanied Sokka's description.

"In what direction?" Zuko asked promptly.

"Out of the harbor, to the west" Sokka replied.

"Then we have our heading," Zuko affirmed, rising from his seat. As his voice grew firmer the lamp grew brighter, along with the collective resolve of everyone in the room. "We leave on Appa, first thing tomorrow. We're going to look for these people, whoever they are, and make them pay for this." A fire was alight in Zuko's eyes and his stance was sure and firm.

"Are you sure you want to come with us Zuko?" Katara posed. "You're the Fire Lord. Your people still need you."

"My people need to know that their leader is strong and willing to defend them at any cost. This isn't the work of some bandits or pirates; this is a new threat, one that's hit home and one that I want to deal with personally." They all stared at Zuko in unison with new courage in their eyes. "Is Team Avatar ready for another adventure?" Zuko held out his hand, waiting for his response.

Katara, and then Aang, stood up and approached Zuko. "We're ready," Katara said. "These people have to be stopped." She placed her hand over Zuko's.

"I know I'm ready," Aang avowed. "I've been on the side-lines long enough. I'm in," he said adding his hand. "Besides, it'll be good to have the old team back together." Aang then raised his eyebrows, just realizing something. "Speaking of which, where's Toph? I haven't seen her this entire time."

"She was called to Ba Sing Se by King Bumi shortly before the attack took place," Katara responded. "There's been some sort of plague going on there for the past several months and he wants her help, apparently."

"Jeez! Did this entire world up and decide to go crazy while I was away!" Aang lamented. Katara extended her free hand to Aang's shoulder, and looked at him with reassurance.

"We'll have to leave without her," Zuko said. "What about you Sokka? Are you coming or not?" Sokka rose to his feet as well, with a determined, furrowed brow.

"I'm in it to find Suki, and the rest of the Kyoshi Warriors," he affirmed. "I owe them a lot, especially after letting them down like this", Sokka said, bowing his head. He added his hand to the circle, completing the group.

"It's settled then," Zuko confirmed. He parted from the group and started to leave the mess hall before adding, "Let's all get some sleep, we'll be leaving early." With that, the rest of the room's inhabitants followed Zuko out of the mess hall and retired to their quarters.

Zuko rose to the zenith of the barracks, ascending towards the messenger hawk tower. He contrived orders for his admirals and advisors, instructing them to safeguard the Fire Nation in his absence, exhorting them to carry on while he vanquished whatever foe that dared molest the Empire and the Republic. On wings, his decrees were carried across the winds, in the trust of those regal birds. Once again, he felt that he was being tested by the universe and once again he would face it, as the Fire Lord. He would not fail his people again. But was Katara right? Should he be going off on another adventure with Team Avatar, leaving his people behind? He knew that this was something he had to do; for the good of the Fire Nation. He was brimming with resolve and determination, but also... something else. Did he have another reason for wanting to leave, to venture out into the world again at the peril of his throne?

Sokka was in his room, kneeling before his possessions, sorting, organizing and packing them; a routine that gave him comfort when he was unsure of himself. He felt so much happier when he was obsessing over minor details or contriving hare-brained schemes. It gave him comfort, knowing he was in control. He knelt by the light of a small lamp, taking inventory of his weapons and tools. He had his scimitar, his boomerang and his club. But his armor... He glanced around and found it; one of the armored suits he had designed for the new Republic City Guards. He smiled as he remembered the effort and ingenuity that he had poured into its design. But he frowned when he gazed at his reflection. The reflection he saw was that of a failure. He had retired early the night of the attack, hoping to be well rested for the speech he was going to give at the conference the following day. He was so nervous and so worried that he wouldn't convince, much less impress anyone, with his proposals. He was afraid that he would make a fool of himself in front of the officials, and in front of Suki... again. He wouldn't let his fear prevent him from doing his duty, from protecting the ones he loved. He would make things right. "I'm sorry Suki," he whispered before drifting asleep. "I'm coming for you."

Aang lay awake, next to Katara, anxiously waiting for the following morning. The aching feeling that ravaged his heart was gone as Katara rested her head over it. There was no trace of the void, none at all. He was sure. But... something about what Katara said perplexed him. 'You will always be my hero', since when did she say things like that? She's always so confident, spirited and strong. When has she ever needed a hero? A seed of coldness sprung up in his heart-strings. "_Was she lying to you just to make you feel better?_" the seed seemed to say from within the recesses of his mind.

"_No, we've always been honest, and honest with each other_," he said to himself.

"_Just like she was honest in stealing that water scroll from those pirates and hiding it from you; just like you were honest with your friends when you lied to them about being the Avatar, not to mention that incident in the Great Divide_," the seed replied. "_And do you really love __**her**__ or the shoulder on which she lets you cry_?"

"_NO_!" Aang exclaimed to himself, almost speaking it out loud. "_We've been across the world and back together_! _We've been through so much, TOGETHER_!_We care about each other, we're apart of each other and I'll face any danger if it means I'll face it with Katara; if it means we'll finally be together again_!" The seed was silenced. Aang sighed, his mind at peace again. He slowly stroked Katara's glistening hair, softly peering at her as she followed the slow cadence of inhales and exhales that was beautiful sleep. Aang lay awake, next to Katara, waiting hopefully for the following morning when he and his friends would embark on another adventure. The tiny seed of the void was silenced... but not gone...

**"Who are You?"**

Meanwhile, in Ba-Sing-Se...

"So what does old 'fancy-britches' want with me anyway?" Toph asked as she and her metal bending students followed High Earth King Kuei down the tall, green hued hallways. "I don't know jack-squat about medicine, so I can't do anything about this plague. Unless he wants a rematch from the last time we butt heads..." she said slamming her fist into her palm, "... I don't understand why he called me here."

"Earth King Bumi has become afflicted by the plague," Kuei responded solemnly.

"Oh... I didn't know." Toph paused tensely and tersely in the extravagant, marble paved corridor.

"Soon King Bumi will descend into total madness," Kuei said forlornly as he turned to face Toph. "We will have to immobilize and incarcerate him to prevent him from doing damage to himself and everyone around him."

"Oh, I know what sort of damage he can do," Toph said with a slight chuckle, trying to reassure herself. "But I still don't know why I'm here. If he wanted to share some final words, why didn't he call on twinkle-toes, uh... I mean, Aang? I thought they were best buds or something."

"Master Aang was unreachable for some reason," the King replied in his gossamer voice. "He asked for you in his stead. I'm afraid I'm just as puzzled as you," he relented with a shrug.

"Well, only one way to find out", she said glumly. They progressed down the spacious passage before coming to a stop in front of a tall, dark, ornately carved pair of wooden doors.

"You'll need to wear this," Kuei said, holding out a mask. "With benders, the plague is especially contagious, and dangerous." Toph took the mask and wrapped it around her face.

With a muffled sigh, Toph said, "Okay, I'm ready if he is." Two attendants cracked open the doors, which only relented with haunting creaks. Ho Tun, one of Toph's students, tensed up and fidgeted, while his two companions, Penga and The Dark One, stood dolefully beside him. "Wait out here for me guys; I'll just be a few minutes." Her charges nodded in response, and she proceeded into the room with the imposing doors shutting behind her.

The room was dark and dreary, with only a faint, green light. It filtered through muted, dark green curtains that were shrouding two small windows. Two nurses sat beside an imposing four poster bed, framed with dark curtains, completely drawn. Toph tentatively approached the center of the room, noticing only the soft carpet under her bare feet and the scratchy labored breathing of the bed's occupant.

"Come... closer... child," a faint voice issued from behind the curtains. She approached the side of the bed. "Leave us," the infirm king said to his nurses, wheezing with every word. "I wish to speak with dear Toph... _hughh_... alone." The two servants stood up, bowed, and departed the room through the creaking doors. "Are they gone?" the 'frail' king asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yep, they've flown the coop."

"Goooood," the old man yawned. He sat up in his bed and stretched his arms over his head, shrugging off the illness he had been feigning.

"I knew you were faking it," Toph said as she peeled off her mask, revealing a toothy grin. "But why? Why all the smoke and mirrors? And what's this plague about anyway?"

"Why indeed?" the mad King replied with a snorting series of giggles. He sat up in his bed and cast his twitching gaze around the room like an eagle-hawk surveying its territory. "Why on earth did they put me here in this awfully decorated room?" the King lamented with disgust. "It looks like a funeral parlor and I'm not even a corpse... yet," the eccentric leader said, issuing another series of cackles.

"Seriously, why are you pretending to be sick?" Toph pressed.

"Because something suspicious is going on as to the cause of this plague," Bumi replied in a more serious tone. "This disease just erupted out of nowhere, even with the meticulous scrutiny of those, umm... _lovely_... ladies in customs," he said, adding few more sniggers before regaining his composure. "The professors at Ba-Sing-Se University have identified it as some sort of airborne fungus spore. It infects people when they inhale it, starts multiplying in their lungs, and then spreads when they breathe it out, beginning the whole cycle over again. Once you inhale it, it starts infecting your brain and turns you into a mindless, marauding... lunatic," he said, waving his arms to illustrate the travesty. "Those happy-hooligans out there are even crazier than me, as hard as that is to imagine."

"Yep, that is pretty hard to imagine," Toph snickered.

Ignoring her quip, King Bumi persisted in his rant. "Once the fungus takes hold of your mind, you start rampaging around with reckless abandon, without worry of pain or injury, without recognition of family or friends, completely without impunity! You should see the damage some of the infected earth-benders did! " the old man continued, an edge of hysteria creeping into his voice.

"A couple of days before this plague started, some obscure noble arrived from... oh... what was it? The 'such-and-such' province," he quoted through the air. "I got suspicious and had some agents of mine follow this guy around. They swiped a few of his belongings and found high concentrations of these spores on them. Because of this, I thought that he might be the one who is spreading the plague through Ba-Sing-Se."

"Whoa", Toph remarked. "So what can I do?"

"I needed someone I could trust to investigate, someone with muscle. Whoever this noble is, he's dangerous", he replied. "With Aang gone for whatever reason, I knew there was one other tough little badger mole whom I could count on", he said smirking.

"Thanks", Toph said with a reciprocal smile. "What should I do first?"

"You need to do some snooping around. Figure out who this man is. Find out why and how he's spreading the plague and how he can be stopped. We don't know what he is capable of," he added. "Now listen, I know subtlety isn't your strongest Pai Sho tile, but you really need to be sneaky about this," he urged in a hushed tone of voice.

"Don't worry King Bumi," she responded with a grin of reassurance. "You can count on me."

A loud, thundering blast issued from the far wing of the royal palace. Toph rode into the main library on a giant, rolling wave of rock and paving stones, blasting furniture to splinters and toppling book cases with loud crashes. Followed by her students, the powerful earth bender rode her roaring rockalanche of destruction towards a short, squat man wearing opulent attire and a stunned expression on his flabby face. She hopped off her receding wave of regolith and slammed her fists into the ground, forcing stone spires up from the floor around the aristocrat's feet. He was trapped.

"The jig's up tubby! Why are you spreading the plague around the city?!"

The plump senator's expression changed from outright shock to bewildered anger as Toph pinned him to the wall of the library with a pillar of rock. "Talk!" Toph commanded. "Who are you anyway?!"

Just then, the little man's skin began to roil and course about his body, taking on the texture of liquid wood. His corpulent silhouette molded into an amorphous blob of this foreign substance before warping itself into another form... On the completion of this hideous metamorphosis, a new figure occupied the space of the small, fat nobleman that she had menaced. The withered, crooked old man wore a wild mane of shaggy hair, braided with small bones or bizarre trinkets and punctured by sinister, spindly twigs and jagged branches. He was completely enshrouded in thick, shabby brown robes but for small patches of skin that bore twisted, knotting tattoos or equally twisted ornaments. The gnarled stranger had piercing grey eyes hanging from his wispy brows; eyes painted with murder to match his angry snarl and viper-like hiss.

She could not disguise her shock in discovering this new, alien creature. "Who are you?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Avatar: Legend of the Arbiter**

Book 1: Wood ~ Ch. 2: The Threshold

**Angry Sky Gods**

"_We've been flying for nearly two weeks. We've come this far and have found nothing, nothing but small, scattered, desolate islands. We don't even know if they continued this way or whether they turned back, but we keep searching, heading in the same direction. West. It's the only piece of evidence we have regarding the abductions. It's all we have. So for now we'll keep searching. But it's frustrating, having only little piles of rock and sand to show for all our effort. Still, the mere presence of such islands is somewhat encouraging. They could have provided shelter to the people we're pursuing, and they now provide much needed rest for Appa and_— hey! Momo! Quit playing with my quill!"

Zuko shooed away the mischievous Lemur-bat and continued writing in his leather-bound journal.

"_...everyone else. These past few weeks have been tough on all of us. Even Aang is glum, and Katara isn't doing much better. Sokka is being unusually moody and I'm not sure why. It's probably because of Suki, he's been worried about her ever since he found out she was taken with the other Kyoshi Warriors. I'd be upset too if something like that happened to Uncle or...Mai. I'm afraid that our search will turn up with nothing. Whoever these people are, they wouldn't have proceeded this far, they'd only meet endless ocean. Any sane person would turn back. Our supplies are running low as I write this. Maybe we should turn back. I'm sure the others are thinking it. We'll continue the search for now but if we don't find anything in the next couple days we'll double back and search in another direction; a direction that, hopefully, will yield better results. In the meantime, I really hope things aren't falling apart at home...I've been worried sick since we left_—

"Ugghh, I can't take it anymore!" Sokka cried. "I've been roasting under this hot sun every day for the past two weeks, and know I have to listen to the annoying scratchety-scratch of your writing! Seriously would you give it a rest!?"

"It's important that we keep a journal to record our findings," Zuko retorted.

"Maybe Sokka's right," Aang said. "It's been getting on my nerves too."

"Yeah! And besides, what findings!?" Sokka added. "The only thing I've found is heaping loads of sand in my shorts!"

"Listen guys, we're all just a _little_ tired," Katara said. "You know, from going two days without sleep, three days without food and almost a whole week without bathing. So let's all just take a _deeeep_ breath, and calm down. AND YES, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, YOU SHOULD GIVE IT A REST ZUKO! YOU'VE BEEN DRIVING ME OFF THIS SADDLE FOR THE PAST HALF-HOUR!"

"Fine!" Zuko relented before scrawling a final note in his diary. "_End of Fire Lord's Journal, first entry_." He stuffed the note-book back into his bag and leaned against Appa's howdah, sheltering his eyes from the oppressive sun. They all sat in bitter silence under the sweltering heat, their clothes fused to their bodies with several days' worth of grease, grime, sand and sea salt. Momo entertained himself by batting at Zuko's ponytail. Too weary now to bark at the Lemur, he let the little creature have his fun. They continued drifting over the vast voids of ocean water, occasionally dipping down towards its gleaming surface for some refreshing relief from the near omnipresent heat.

"We should turn back now while we still can," Katara said, breaking the silence. "Frankly, I think we got lucky finding that last island. Our luck might not hold out for much longer."

"Yeah, I think you're right," Zuko replied. "All in favor?" Sokka mumbled something indiscernible while Aang was leaning over the side of the howdah, shading his eyes with his hand and trying to get a better view of something on the horizon.

"Wait a second," Aang said. "I see some clouds.

"Yeah, what else is new?" Sokka groaned. "We've been seeing clouds all this time— big clouds, fluffy clouds, clouds shaped like saber-toothed moose lions— where have you been the past few days?"

"No, I mean, really dark, low hanging clouds way ahead," he replied straining against the edge of the saddle. Sokka's eyes widened and he shifted in place to get a better view.

"Hey, you're right," Sokka remarked with a rising spirit. "There might be some sort of landmass providing enough cool air for those clouds to condense."

"Then we should head for them," Zuko suggested. "We've found nothing else of interest so far, it might be worth a look." Aang propelled himself onto Appa's neck with a gust of air, and with a firm crack of the reigns and a hearty 'yip-yip', the bison sped off in the direction of the clouds with an excited bellow. Before long they were hovering outside the imposing façade of billowing gray fog. Without hesitation, the giddy bison dove headfirst into the column of moisture, letting it caress his shaggy body. His passengers were tentative at first, but with the cool, icy air dashing against their weary faces, they embraced it with blissfully closed eyes. They all savored the rejuvenating wisps of condensation for what seemed like hours as Appa playfully frolicked between each fluffy column of sky foam. But before long, they all detected the subtle rumble of thunder.

"Whoa," Aang remarked. "I didn't know these were storm clouds."

"Well they are, apparently," Zuko said. "Let's try to get under these clouds and find some shelter." Aang shook the reigns and with a disgruntled growl Appa descended towards the waves. As they glided below the thick layer of clouds, the gentle murmur of thunder grew into rolling waves of rumbles. The sky grew dark with both the veil of night and the blanket of thickening storm heads.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Sokka said with an edge of panic cracking his voice. They all grew increasingly frantic as the howling winds whipped into frenzy and conspired to toss them about on the foggy waves of the sky. The backdrop of clouds had turned almost pitch black by now and roiling waves of precipitation began coursing around the bison in a mad fury. The muttering of thunder that had filled the sky now mutated into a hideous roar. They continued their descent on the back of the frenzied bison but could find no escape from the congregation of foreboding storm cells. Then, a bright bolt of lightning split the sky, showering them all in a deafening thunder clap. Appa roared with panic and desperately cleaved his way downward through the torrent of storming clouds. Appa's passengers held on for dear life as the wind-buffalo tore through the clouds seeking respite from this oppressive medley of sound and terror.

Then, another bolt of lightning shot out from the clouds, coming dangerously close to grazing Appa's side. Sokka and Aang screamed with fright, while Zuko and Katara clenched their teeth, eyes wide with shock and terror. Momo issued an alarmed screech and scurried down Sokka's shirt for cover. Zuko clasped his heart, which was beating frantically in his chest. Then, another lightning bolt struck off of Appa's flank, and then another on his other side, and then another, and another and another. "I KNEW I SHOULDN'T HAVE COME ALONG!" Sokka screamed over the bedlam of rain and thunder claps. "THE UNIVERSE HATES ME!" Appa kept plowing down through the clouds, a trail of lightning bolts following him as though he were target practice for angry sky gods.

Then, squinting through the inky black shroud of chaos, Aang could barely see a large, dark shape jutting out from sea. "Hey, what's that over there!" he shouted over the cacophony, pointing towards his discovery through a breach in the clouds.

"It looks like an island!" Zuko replied in the din. "Make a break for it!" Hearing these orders clearly despite the ruckus, Appa zoomed through the eye of the storm and rushed towards the dark floating mass. The hairy beast skipped over the white, foaming crests of the ocean like a pebble in a tumultuous pond, dashing over each one before coming to a thundering crash on the beach. The great bison lay there, defeated, with the rain pelting his hide and the thunder roaring victoriously above.

The beast huffed with exhaustion as his passengers crawled off his back and plopped onto the sand below. Zuko, crawling on all fours, gave a heaving lurch and vomited on the sand. Aang and Katara lied on the shore, gasping with fatigue while Sokka prostrated himself before the island beach and fervently kissed the gritty ground. "Oh land! Sweet, sweet land! I'll never part from you again!" he desperately avowed.

Another wriggling strand of lightning writhed across the sky, revealing with its unearthly glow a cave carved into the cliff-face standing before them. Its hollow grace towered above the shoreline, beckoning the beaten travelers with smooth, shadowy arms. Appa propped himself up on his six flabby legs and hurriedly trundled off towards the shelter, his battered passengers trudging along behind him. As soon as the shaggy beast entered the cave he shook himself from side to side, whipping his soggy fur about and sprinkling the cave's new occupants with showering drops. They were too exhausted to notice. The bison then shuffled to the back of the alcove and nestled himself beside its walls. Momo emerged from the back of Sokka's vest and hopped on top of Appa's empty saddle, enjoying his spacious new bed. Sokka, upon reaching the depression's lip, collapsed on the ground and immediately conked out. Not long after, the rest of the group joined him in his slumber.

"Aang, Aang," a soft voice urged. It was Katara's. "Aang, I'm sorry to wake you, but Zuko's got something he wants to talk about," she said, gently nudging him out of his deep sleep. He yawned and gazed groggily around the cave. A faint glow emanated from a small driftwood fire in the center of the room and he could see some of their clothes and belongings splayed out before its orange halo. Several hours had gone by, as Aang could reckon, and it was the dead of night. Outside he could see naught but darkness encroaching upon their secluded shelter. He could hear the gentle pitter patter of rain, the sloshing of water as Zuko washed his face in a shallow pool by the cave's entrance, the cadence of deep, throaty snores followed dutifully by Appa and Sokka, and the delicate breathing of Momo as he slept curled up in the saddle that now lied at the far end of the cave. Aang followed Katara and they sat beside the campfire, waiting for Zuko as he knelt by the pool.

"While we were being tossed like salad by that freak storm," Zuko began as he finished drying off his face, "I saw a whole bunch of little lights clustered around the far side of this island." He stood and approached the fire, sitting before its warm radiance. He held his hands before the flames letting the heat caress his sore palms and bare chest. Aang and Katara sat next to him with anxiety creeping into their faces as they waited for him to continue. Zuko gazed into the fire's hypnotizing glare. "This place is inhabited."

Aang just realized that he had nestled himself against Katara, and she against him. He could feel her hand on his arm as she looked troublingly at Zuko. He continued to stare at the flames. "Well..." Aang said, "There's not much we can do about it now. We'll have to look into it tomorrow." He stood and retreated back to where Appa was huddled on his side against the cave wall and plopped himself down on the bison's legs, wrapping himself in the creamy fur. Katara stood up and joined him, nuzzling next to his body and sharing his warmth as they both drifted off to sleep. Zuko kept watching the flames intently as he lied down next to his campfire, using his sack for a pillow. He tossed and turned, trying his hardest to fall asleep. But before he could so much as yawn he sat back up and reached into his bag. He drew out his quill and journal and started quietly scrawling some words on a blank page.

"_Fire Lord's Journal: first entry continued. We were caught up in a strange storm and have crash landed on an island that may be inhabited by the abductors. We face them tomorrow. If anyone finds this journal let them know that I, Fire Lord Zuko, embarked on this journey for the good of the Fire Nation. If things don't go well, if these people find us before we find them, then...I hope the Fire Nation won't suffer because of my poor decisions. If this journal is found and I am not with it, then I am most likely deceased. Should such a thing occur, then my throne shall go to my living Uncle and his wisdom will decide how the royal line shall carry on. Spirits save the Fire Nation. Fire Lord's journal: First entry concluded_."

He closed the diary and deposited it, with its quill, back into the bag. The Fire Lord lay on his side and watched the gentle glimmer of the flames, letting them lull him to sleep.

**Dream? Or Nightmare?**

Aang found himself floating above a deep, dark chasm. He was swallowed up in an all consuming void of inky blackness, his only companion an eerie shape drifting towards him out of the gloom. There was no light anywhere besides that which steadily emanated from the immense figure now standing before him. It towered above Aang, emitting a blinding blue light from its eyes as well as from a strange rune carved on its forehead. He was weightless. He was paralyzed. His stomach filled with dread as the silhouette reached towards him. Just when Aang thought the figure was about to seize him, small, blue electrical arcs hummed around its finger tips and danced between each digit with a menacing buzz. Small bolts of lightning jolted from its hands and connected with Aang's body, enveloping him in excruciating, throbbing pain. He felt torture. He felt ecstasy. He felt terror, awe, disgust, wonder, madness, clarity, pity, pride, anguish, joy, despair... He felt all of these sensations coursing through his body with each hysterical strand of electricity. His body twitched and writhed through the darkness as he floated above the chasm, suspended in thin air, held in the thrall of this dark, menacing, foreboding creature. In the infinitesimal span of time before he decided to cry out in pain, he looked his attacker in the face and stared into the strange rune emblazoned on its crown. It seemed to grow larger and larger, filling all of his vision and his mind, along with a strange sense of...hope. He was going to die. He screamed. "AAAAAAHHHHHHHH—

**Into the Unknown**

"Aang!" Katara exclaimed. "Aang!" She was shaking his torso to and fro as he moaned in agony and underwent violent spasms.

"Wha—what," Aang muttered, rousing from his episode.

"Aang! You had me worried," she said with alarm. "You were screaming in your sleep, like you were in pain."

"Oh," he began, "I had the most awful nightmare. I dreamt that there was this huge person, standing over me, electrocuting me and—"

"I thought you were over your nightmares of Fire Lord Ozai," Katara said with apprehension. She knelt beside him as he lay near Appa's feet, still caressing his shoulder with her hand.

"It wasn't Ozai," Aang confirmed. "I'm not sure who it was."

"It must have been caused by the storm then," Katara concluded. "Anybody would have bad dreams like that after nearly getting struck by lightning."

"But it wasn't a dream, or, it didn't feel like one," Aang said. "The pain, it felt so...real."

"Well, whatever it was, I'm glad that you're over it," she expressed, embracing him and planting a soft kiss on his cheek. "Well, we need to get going," she said rising to her feet. "Sokka and Zuko are waiting for us outside. Here, put this on," she instructed, handing him a simple, rough-hewn cloak.

"We're going to where Zuko spotted those lights, aren't we?" Aang asked.

"That's right," Katara responded. "Let's go." Aang threw on the sand colored cloak and in doing so discovered that the cloak was covered in actual sand.

"You can thank Sokka for that," Katara grumbled. "He used our cloaks as tarps for the tent a while back." He continued fitting the cloak to his body, grunting at the discomfort, but not complaining. He then grabbed his staff off of Appa's saddle and followed Katara out of the cave and into the bright sunlight.

"Katara, wait," Aang motioned. She halted before leaving the cave, regarding him intently. "Whatever happens out there," he said, "if we don't come make it through this one, just know that I—"

"—love you," she said, finishing his statement. "I know, but we'll be fine as long as we stick together." She smiled and made her way out of the cave.

Before he advanced after her, he turned and addressed the two creatures still occupying the deep cliff-side alcove. "Stay here guys," he said to the menagerie. "We won't be too long." The beasts gave various grunts and squeaks of farewell as Aang headed off towards the unknown.

"Finally you're here," Sokka said as Aang and Katara caught up. "What took you guys so long; you two weren't necking again were you?"

"Put a cork in it Sokka," Katara retorted. "So what's our situation?" she asked Zuko.

"There's a large headland forming the center of the island," Zuko said, pointing towards the rocky cliffs that stood before the shoreline. "That's where the lights were coming from, and if you look closely you can see the tops of a few buildings." Aang and Katara squinted, trying to see what Zuko was pointing to as Sokka shrugged and started strutting towards the cliff side.

"Okay tour guide Zuko," Sokka jested. "So what are we going to do about it, just stroll right into town, hoping to receive a warm welcome?" he said pausing in the sand.

"Basically," Zuko replied, taking the lead. "But let's be prepared. Whatever's up there, I can't imagine it'll be happy to see us." Zuko brandished his Dao Swords and re-sheathed them in the scabbard strapped to his back. The others nodded with comprehension and followed Zuko down the beach-head. Most of the cliff-side forming the headland was drenched in the shadow of early morning with only its crown touched by the orange rays of the emerging sun. They strode nervously across the sandy shore, completely quiet, listening to the steady beat of their march mixed with the gentle roar of the foaming waves. They came to a narrow path winding its way up the cliff. They proceeded cautiously as the incline was formed out of smoothly worn paving stones dotted with patches of slippery seaweed, lichens and clusters of razor sharp mussels. After laboriously scaling the steep, meandering ramp they came to a stop at its zenith and peered over the edge. They saw a large adobe wall stretched out before them. As they edged closer they could hear the sounds and detect the smells of definite human activity.

"Let me take a look," Zuko said, heading towards a set of scaffolding. He ascended the wooden ramps with a few impressively athletic bounds. Upon reaching the top of the wall he crouched and peered over its side like an alley cat getting its bearings. "Guys," he said, motioning to his companions below. "You've got to see this!"

They gave each other puzzled, nervous looks before ascending the flights of hanging thoroughfares to where Zuko was perched. As their gazes glanced over the top of the wall their faces dropped with astonishment. Spread out in front of their view was a skyline filled with multitudes of turban domes, minarets, spires and pinnacles adorning the cambered, sweeping hills of a large city. Below them was a maze of cobbled streets, alleyways and stucco rooftops, all lined in between with throngs of people and stalls bearing heaps of goods and wares. Their faces were washed in a deluge of scents, ranging from the repugnant to the tantalizingly exotic.

"Come on," Zuko urged. "This will be easy; we just have to blend in." He barreled off the side of the wall and landed gracefully in the street below. With nervous looks, they all climbed to the top of the barrier. Aang, with Katara in his embrace, alighted on a whirlwind of air. Sokka, on the other hand, rolled clumsily off the top the wall and landed in the awning of an empty stall. A sickening crash resonated around the mercifully empty alleyway. He stumbled about with the awning draped over his head like a sheet.

"AAH, AAH...let me at 'em, let me at 'em" the muffled voice screamed as it raised its dukes. Zuko palmed his forehead before yanking the awning off a blushing Sokka, dragging him in step behind the group. They rounded the alleyway corner and were soon engulfed in the bustling crowds populating the narrow streets. They suddenly felt very conspicuous in their drab, shabby cloaks as they were quickly surrounded by a veritable kaleidoscope of riotously hued fabrics and an almost equally diverse palette of skin colors. They saw individuals garbed in strange clothes from simple cloaks to elaborate robes, humble shirts to extravagant tunics as well as varieties of shawls, vests and fabulous arrays of turbans, hoods, veils, headdresses and hats of every kind and color. Every available space on the street was filled with bodies. The space above the street was occupied by a potpourri of bewitching smells wafting their way to their noses on the breeze. They could identify the tantalizing aromas of exotic spices, tangy citrus fruits, piquant curries, bitter coffees and the sweet smoke of many hookahs being puffed by small crowds of men huddling outside of cafés and bistros.

As they weaved their way through the patchwork of buzzing bazaars they could see stands and stalls overflowing with a colorful hodgepodge of goods, trinkets, ornaments, tools, toys, rugs and clothes. There were commodities and luxuries pooling over each booth, littering the ground on mats and rugs, making it hard for them to walk down the street without stepping on anything. Though they tried to keep from drawing attention to themselves, at times they couldn't resist raking their gazes over the odd assortments of curios and knick-knacks. Zuko stole a surreptitious glance at a kiosk advertising some exotic looking knives while Sokka flagrantly gawked over a stand bearing an assortment of boomerangs. Aang practically had to drag him away. They huddled together and slogged underneath the hot, noon-day sun and the sound of loquaciously clattering carts and clamoring salesmen. Seeking respite from the mayhem, they rushed to fill an unoccupied space on a street corner. Zuko had to shoo away some priestly looking people that looked at the huddled group of strangers as though they were beggars. Once they were more-or-less alone he started furtively doling out small, heavy satchels to Sokka, Katara and Aang.

"Whoa," Aang gasped, winded from his wearisome journey. "There must be thousands of people here, where did they all come from and how could they all have gotten out this far?"

"I don't know," Zuko admitted. "But we've just stumbled onto a gold mine. In places like these, any sort of information can be had for a price. That's what these purses are for."

"Right," Katara said, nodding her head as she quickly stashed the satchel under her cloak. Aang and Sokka followed suit with savvy winks.

"Good," Zuko said. "Let's split up and ask around, but be discreet. We don't want people knowing were foreigners or that were searching for abductees; it might tip off the abduct_ors_. We'll meet back here at day's end. Good luck." With that, Katara and Sokka stood up and vanished into the crowd down the main street. Zuko stole off into a secluded alley while Aang veered off into a byway.

**When in Cordéiba...**

Katara and Sokka drifted into a seedy tavern, figuring it was the best place to search for the types of information brokers Zuko had alluded to. Upon brushing aside the swinging doors the pair stood in silence as they were scrutinized by the seemingly offended tavern patrons._I'll handle this,_ Sokka whispered to Katara. She slinked to the side of the doorway, covering her face but for a small gap in her fingers through which she glimpsed Sokka strolling gruffly up to the bar.

The bartender, eyeing him threateningly, asked, "What's your pleasure, tourist?"

"I'll take a glass of your finest, whatever your establishment specializes in," Sokka ejected brusquely, ensuring the 'toughness' in his voice carried over.

"Would you like a little umbrella with that?" the barkeep scoffed.

"Actually, yeah, that would be nice," Sokka replied. The tavern erupted from all corners with hearty laughter and fist banging before its occupants went back to their mugs, tankards and tall tales. Katara self-consciously shuffled up to the bar next to her brother as the bartender poured them some tall glasses of tonic.

"Little umbrellas, as promised," the barkeep chortled as he adorned the drinks. "And welcome to Cordéiba, strangers."

Katara blushed as Sokka took a hearty swig of his tonic and said, "Told you I'd handle it." He leaned over the bar, wearing a self-satisfied grin and a bubbly tonic moustache on his face. She picked the umbrella out of her drink and took a sip from the glass as she shifted her gaze across the dark, musty tavern. The oppressive stench of ale and cigar smoke added to her growing claustrophobia as she scanned her surroundings. The small room reverberated with laughter and lively discussion being communicated in accents that were strange to Katara's ears. She could see all sorts of men through the gloom. They were all huddled in high backed booths, illuminated by small, dim lamps and dressed in clothing as diverse and strange as that she had witnessed outside. Their outfits all had some elements of crookedness or crustiness common to them though. Her glance drifted to her right where she saw a man whose fatigues registered a different tone.

The man wore a long, deep-blue, open fronted coat over a loose fitting tunic and light-blue waistcoat. In addition he wore loose fitting trousers and tall, black leather boots. On top of his heavily bearded and mustached head he wore a blue topped fleece hat. He also carried a sheathed saber at his side and had a large cross-bow strung across his back as he leaned over the bar with staid confidence and calm poise. He seemed the soldierly type. Almost, she thought...the fatherly type. They had to start somewhere after all.

"Excuse me sir," Katara said tapping the man on his elbow.

"Yes miss, how might a humble Cossack be of service," he said politely. The stranger spoke with a thick accent, seeming to sink his teeth into his consonants.

"Well you see sir, we were looking for—"

"Say," the stranger interrupted, stroking his pointed, bushy beard. "Would you two young ones happen to be Water Tribesmen?" He pointed to the dark blue Water Tribe vestments that were poking their out of their sandy cloaks.

"Well yes," Katara began to reply. "But—"

"COMRADES!" the stranger exclaimed with glee. He flung his arms open and enveloped Katara and a stunned Sokka into a big, bone crunching hug. "The places I've been, the things I've seen, and all without a single glimpse of home has been more than I can bear," the man lamented. He broke from the hug and stood rigidly in front of the shaken Water Tribe siblings, preparing for a formal introduction. "Allow me to introduce myself," he said with a flourishing bow. "I am Alexander Seregovich Marzov, loyal soldier of the Northern Water Cossacks at your service."

"Hi!" Katara said in a feigned cheerful voice and a forced, blushing grin. "I'm Katara, and this is my brother Sokka. We're of the Southern Water Tribe from the South Pole," she said with an awkward smile.

"Hi there," Sokka said in a timid whimper. "_Don't tell this guy where we live!_" he whispered in Katara's ear.

"It is so good to meet you both!" he declared joyously. He then placed his hands firmly on Katara's shoulders and planted firm pecks on each of her cheeks, repeating the process with Sokka before he could skulk away. "Come comrades, we have much to talk about," the man said escorting his newfound brethren out of the bar. "We can have a discussion over a free massage, courtesy of some friends of mine at yonder bath house," he said pointing to an establishment across the street.

"Oh thank you, that's very generous," Katara said attempting to wriggle out of his grasp. "But, oh look at the time—"

"Nonsense," the Cossack responded. "There is always time for kith and kin. Come, Rasputin will treat you to a nice _hopak_ massage."

Katara and Sokka then found themselves stretched out on tables in a hot sauna, several feet in front of the Cossack who was posited in a similar fashion. They each had towels wrapped around their heads and stretched across their backs as the room filled with dense, asphyxiating steam. "Ahhhhh," the Cossack sighed. "The sauna is very good for clear pores, clear thinking, and clear dialogue. So, tell me my friends, are their warriors in your tribe, what sort of dances do you have, have you ever tasted caravan tea, it is really good, and was that selkie-seal fur you were wearing, it looked magnificent on you, how many annual holidays does this Southern Water Tribe have?"

The two siblings could not answer his litany of questions as two other Cossacks had leapt on top of their backs and commenced a lively, hopping jig. "Oh, I ask too many questions," the man said, twisting his pointy moustache. "You must savor the muscle restoring power of hopak!" And they truly savored it as they clenched their teeth, gasped for breath and held onto the parlor table for dear life.

Aang waded through the busy harbor, struggling to take in the view of his surroundings as he was enclosed on every side by a shifting wall of passersby. Frustrated, he propelled himself to the top of a thick signpost on a bended breeze and balanced himself upon it with his staff. He was now able to absorb the entirety of surroundings. He witnessed a tessellating mosaic of sailors, dock masters, merchants, peddlers, laborers and beasts of burden. He saw a labyrinth of jetties, wharfs, peers and quays, sprawling across the bay like the parched roots of a banyan tree. There wasn't a single spit of naked dock; every inch of available space was occupied by strange ships of types that he had never seen before. Working underneath the patchwork quilt of sails and in-between the pincushions of masts were sailors unloading exotic cargoes of spices, fabrics, woods, jars of scented oils and perfumes, bundles of ivory tusks, and pelts once belonging to bizarre animals. A menagerie of equally bizarre living animals was carrying these goods to and from the port. There were gnarly looking Gnu-raffes carrying cords of wood and baskets of grain alongside stumpy, spiny Echidna-rhinos bearing loads of metal ingots or marble slabs. Rolling between their legs were small flocks of excitable Pangolin-lizards, each one curling into a tight wheel for locomotion.

He was daunted by the sheer scale of this spectacle. "_How am I supposed to find an informant in this mess?_" he thought to himself as he slumped down on top of the guidepost. "_I came here thinking this was the best place to find people with news from abroad, but it'll take forever to ask everyone in this port!_ " Just as his spirits were beginning to sink they were buoyed again by what he saw on a far pier. Mooring itself on the dock was a ship with large blue arrows emblazoned on its sails. "_Blue arrows? Could they be...Air Nomads?!_" Aang's heart welled up with an effervescent giddiness as he hopped of the signpost and bended an air scooter beneath himself. He dashed off in the direction of the ship, blithely unaware of the bedlam that ensued in his wake. As he sped and hopped through the teeming crowds of workers he knocked over precariously stacked piles of goods, tripped bewildered laborers carrying absurdly heavy loads and scared large pack animals that stampeded off to cause more damage. He hurriedly hopped over the intermittent waterways and over the heads of panicked pedestrians who issued lists of profane curses in their consternation. "Whoops," Aang remarked, remembering that he possessed a glider. He quickly dismounted his swirling cushion of air and extended the wings of his glider-staff mid-flight.

Soaring through the sky, Aang spotted his destination and swooped down onto the deck of the ship amidst a crowd of its surprised occupants. "Umm...excuse me," Aang said. "But would any of you happen to be Air Nomads?" The ship's crew gazed in curiosity at their new, bald visitor. They were all dark skinned and wore orange hued robes and hoods fixed firmly to their heads by cotton bands. Each band was extolled with a familiar looking downward pointing blue arrow.

"We are indeed," one of the crewmen responded, "as you are, I see." A tall, wispily bearded man stepped forward out of the congregation. He spoke in a light, airy accent that rang with warmth and cheer. He bowed deeply to Aang with his companions following in imitation. "I am Yaffur Abdullah, the captain of this vessel, and these are my crewmates," the man said gesturing towards his entourage. "And you would be?" the man asked.

"Aang," the monk replied.

"Well it is nice to greet you young Aang, and might I say, that was an impressive display you performed with that glider," the man said, pointing to Aang's staff.

"Thanks," Aang said. He smiled along with the crew, as though he had finally found family in these long lost relatives of his. "I'm so glad to see other Air Nomads. I thought I was one of the last ones, but it warms my heart to know that some of our culture has survived."

"Undeniably," the man said. "Our culture has indeed lived on; our philosophy has allowed our society to survive by wandering on the waves of the never-ending sea and to make a living off of trade and commerce," the hooded man said with a wide smile.

"Wait, what?" Aang said, his expression of excitement shifting to one of perplexity. "Trade, commerce, what do you mean?"

"That is the one of the central tenets of our philosophy, the reason we bear the mark of the Air Nomads," the man explained. "It represents the power and grace of the four winds, the mighty currents that fill our sails and guide us towards prosperity and plenty."

"What!" Aang exclaimed incredulously. "No offense, but that isn't what the original philosophy of the Air Nomads is about at all."

"Oh?" the man queried, stroking his forked beard.

"No. I was taught that this arrow symbolized a philosophy of freedom and detachment from worldly concerns, concerns such as material wealth and profit," Aang responded indignantly.

"Well, that is curious," the man said, continuing to stroke his beard.

"What! What's curious?!" Aang snapped in irritated puzzlement.

"I do not see a trademark stamp on that little arrow of yours," he said pointing to Aang's tattooed forehead. The captain and all of his crew let out hearty chuckles as Aang's face turned a deep shade of crimson. Before he could enter the Avatar state from infuriation he zoomed up into the air on his glider, leaving the crew of the merchant ship guffawing merrily.

Zuko shuffled down the side of a crowded street that wove its way through a complex of ghettoes, shanty towns and hovels. The hood of his cloak was raised. He tried to look inconspicuous against the back drop of shabby buildings garnished in graffiti and unkempt streets covered in litter. He knew the poorer sections of the city would be the best place to look for an informant. The backwaters usually harbored the greater share of criminals and malcontents, those willing to part with valuable information for any price. As he peered out from under his hood he could see a crowd accumulating next to a makeshift stage set up against the side of a tavern on the other side of the street. He approached curiously, yet cautiously. He shifted his glance from left to right, taking in a mostly male crowd filled with very haggard and weary looking individuals. Deciding that it was a waste of time, Zuko began weaving his way through the huddle of men when he saw an ornately costumed man jump out on stage.

"Welcome gentlemen!" the man exclaimed merrily. "Gather around, gather around!" he shouted, beckoning to the crowds. Zuko found himself pressed in tighter and saw his chances of escape diminish. The announcer on stage kept beckoning to onlookers on the street with grand gesticulations. The man was garbed in flamboyant robes, boisterous collars and puffy sleeves, all of various shades of bright red, yellow and orange. What skin Zuko could see poking out from his riotous adornments was colored a dark tint. "Come one, come all!" the stage master declared with a flourish of his hand. "Gorge your eyes on the loveliest sights in all of Cordéiba!" Zuko grew increasingly tense as he was shoved on all sides by the excited spectators. He became bathed in body heat and eventually couldn't tell what sweat belonged to him or his neighbors. "Gentlemen!" the announcer invoked, "I give you...the Dancing Fire Gypsies!"

The curtains on-stage peeled back revealing three dark skinned, scantily clad girls. With voluptuous grace they skipped out on stage and danced to the rhythm of a vulgar tune that emanated from beneath the platform. Each dancer wildly swayed their hips to the beat of the music, with each gyration of their waists whipping the gathering into a conflagration of cheers and whistles. The prancing vixens then paused and flourished their hands, producing wisps of smoke, cascades of multicolored sparks and tongs of bright orange flames from their fingertips. The audience gaped with amazement as the streams of fire began dancing along with the frolicking stage girls, morphing into showers of flowers, fluttering flocks of butterflies and herds of flouncing animals. Zuko could barely hear or see anything over the jubilant hollering, whooping and whistling of the ecstatic crowd. He hurriedly squirmed his way towards the edge of the congregation of onlookers, desperately cleaving his way out. He had to find his way out! Upon reaching the edge of the swirling sea of male hormones he stumbled and fell onto the cobbled street in front of the stage.

Looking up, he saw one of the dancers eyeing him mischievously. She tapped her thigh with her tambourine with a shimmy of her hips and a teasing wink from her twinkling eye. Zuko's sweaty cheeks blushed as he covered his face with his hood and scrambled off down the street, tripping and stumbling as he went. Seeing her friend depart with such haste, she continued dancing; though halfheartedly and with a slight mope. When the finale came and the dancers shot streams of bright, colorful flames about the stage, she was too distracted to notice that she had set a bystander's turban on fire.

Seeing no reason not to, the two furry monsters strolled on into town. The now empty city streets gave a generous berth to Appa's generous girth. He moseyed his way down the promenades when he eyed a large wagon, filled to the brim with ruby red turnips. Tongue lolling, he ambled off towards his prize when a shrieking voice echoed its way down the deserted street.

"Momma Mía! My Turnips!" A stubby, bushy bearded turnip merchant came scurrying down the road and flung himself in front of his precious produce. "Shoo, Shoo you vile monster!" the merchant squeaked. "You shall not lay hide or hair on my turnips!" Ignoring the squawking salesman, the bison started munching merrily on his newfound snack. The merchant issued more hysterical cries of protest and bounced around the massive creature's feet. He began to wail as he begged and pleaded for the beast to halt its voracious repast. It was like a lone sparrow-keet was trying to mob a majestic eagle-hawk.

Meanwhile, from down the street, Momo was raiding a bakery. He sailed out of the shop window with a baguette in his grasp as he was being chased by an outraged constable. "Hyeww misraayble varmaint!" the constable cried as he pursued the bread stealing lemur. He chased the creature in circles, the coattails of his uniform swinging behind him. He struggled to sprint after his quarry without knocking the tall, floppy bicorn hat off his head. "Yeww cannot ruun from me, I am ze laaaaaw!" The constable eventually grew tired and stopped to catch his breath. Panting, the officer shouted after the lemur, "Oweyr leetle chaase shall never aynd François! I zhall peyrsue yeww for ze rest of my lyfe or my nayme is not— JAAAAVIEEEEEE —Ooophh" The exasperated constable was unable to finish his rant as he was being swept up into a stampede of frenzied warthog-water buffaloes. The streets were empty for a reason.

Katara and Sokka sat glumly on the street corner, haggard and sore from their ordeal. Zuko plodded dolefully towards them in the empty square. Katara ventured, "What did you—?"

"Nothing!" Zuko shot back immediately. "Absolutely nothing!" The late afternoon sun was beginning to darken the sky. Against it, they could see Aang descending towards them on his glider.

"Did anyone find anything?" Aang asked as he alighted and twirled his glider back into a staff. "I must have asked dozens of merchants and sailors if they saw anything weird. They did see weird stuff, REALLY weird stuff, but not the sort we're looking for."

"We were too busy being beaten to death by _kith and kin_!" Sokka griped, mocking their acquaintance's accent. Katara leaned next to him and gave out a short, faint groan.

"Well," Zuko began. "I wasted my gold bribing this peddler to tell me where to find the underground network here, but...there is none."

"How is that possible?" Sokka said, "This place has got to have a black market."

"I know," Zuko replied, "But I checked the catacombs and alleys of half this island myself. There hasn't been smuggling or slave trading here for years. This port is run by a man called _the Arbiter_ from what I hear. Whoever he is, he does a good job with security."

"We'll just have to try again tomorrow," Katara sighed. "Let's go back to the cave."

"Ugh, I'm too exhausted to travel that far," Sokka grumbled. "Do we have any money left to pay for an inn?"

"I spent all of mine on supplies," Aang responded, patting his shoulder bag. "If this all were going to find here, we'll need them for when we leave."

"We still have some cash," Katara said holding out her half empty satchel. "We spent most of it getting away from our little _friend_, but there should be enough to buy us a few nights."

"Then it's settled," Sokka said. "And it'll be easier finding a place to stay now that the streets are empty."

"Yeah, why is that?" Aang said. "These streets have been crowded all day, why are they abandoned now?" The answer to Aang's question came rushing around the corner down the road. They could hear the rumble of many thundering hooves coming from down the lane but could only see a dust cloud pursuing a group of merrily whooping and 'ye-haw'ing men. They turned tail and ran down the road as the herd of wild beasts and excited merrymakers gained on their heels. From the sides of the street they could see cheering crowds of people behind fenced barricades, whistling and rooting for the runners or taunting the angry warthog-buffaloes. As they rounded an avenue they could see a large hairy monster blocking their way.

"Aapa! Get out of here!" Aang shouted. The bison reared on his back legs and gave a frightened roar as the herd of gnarly beasts came rushing towards him. The warthog-buffaloes gave out panicked grunts and squeals as they slipped and slid on the smooth cobblestone and veered off into the byways and alleys. Scrambling, the crusty creatures leaped and scampered over the wooden palisades and into the crowds of terrified people behind them. Aang, Katara, Zuko and Sokka stood in the street with the now frightened roisterers and could hear loud screams and crashes echoing off in the distance. The suntanned men scowled at Appa and the group of foreigners giving them awkward, apologetic grins.

Just then, a group of ornately dressed soldiers and guardsmen surrounded the group and fenced them in with a wall of pikes, cross-staves and bayoneted rifles. "You there, foreigners!" one of the guards said. "You're coming with us," he commanded, "The Arbiter wishes to speak with you."

**The Arbiter**

They followed dismally behind their captors as they marched through the squares and avenues towards the center of the city. The flamboyantly outfitted Janissaries kept in perfect cadence, their red silk robes and headdresses swaying with each step. Momo would have had a gala batting at the finials of their costumes had he not been locked in a cage being carried by one of the guards. Appa would have crushed them all flat with his tail had he not been restrained by the soldiers now leading him from the rear of their formation. As they got closer to the city's interior the buildings became more grand and elaborate. They passed under majestic arches and vaults and crossed over ornate bridges and canals. But their sightseeing was cut short as their escorts quickened their pace towards a magnificent palace complex that perched itself on top of the hill overlooking the city. The procession halted in front of a large, lavishly designed wrought iron gate that led into a spectacular courtyard furnished with bubbling fountains, lush gardens and luxurious pavilions.

"The Arbiter is waiting for you in the main hall," one of the Janissaries said, "Don't keep him waiting." The soldiers brandished their weapons, barring them from any alternatives. The companions looked at each other with dread and taking deep gulps proceeded into the courtyard, leaving Appa and Momo behind.

As they walked across the splendid thoroughfares towards the large building, Sokka whispered and nudged Zuko in the side. "_Why are we doing this? We can take these guys in a fight easily_," he said whipping out his boomerang.

"We came here looking for answers," Zuko replied. "We just might get the information we need from this _Arbiter_, whoever he is." Sokka sheathed his boomerang and trooped glumly after his friends as they approached the grandiose palace doors.

"Well, here goes nothing," Aang said as he pushed open the doors with a loud creak. Zuko and Aang took the lead into the dark, shadowy hall. Their footsteps echoed poignantly across the gleaming, white marble floors as they continued guardedly through the room. Attempting to absorb their surroundings in the light starved hallway, they could barely observe the tall ceilings, arches, vaults and walls inlaid with pearly, ceramic tiles, traceries of elegant gold calligraphy, painted black stucco and a dizzying array of geometric patterns and tessellations. Each opulent embellishment, crafted with the intent to enthrall and amaze, went without notice by the visitors. They were far more intrigued, and a bit frightened, by what lay towards the halls termination.

Standing on an imposing marble dais at the head of the hall was the silhouette of a tall man, defined by the sunlight streaming through a mullioned window behind him. He carried on a hushed conversation with several other obscured figures that almost groveled beneath him on the floor. They could hear several harsh hisses bombarding the hunched men, with only sheepish murmurs of response. The tall figure emitted a quick "_excuse me_" before turning to regard the newcomers. He spoke.

"My intrepid guests..." the shadowy sentinel placidly intoned. "Welcome to Cordéiba." The voice spoke with a soft, smoothly flowing intonation that carried subtle hints of erudition. Its sonorous, baritone key would almost have sounded soothing if its owner's emerging face didn't look so stern and austere. In a long, protracted pause, the Arbiter quickly examined them all from head to toe, his invasive stare seeming to judge them just as expeditiously. Sokka started to shift in place nervously as the man's steely gray eyes bored into his skull. Katara regarded the figure with a bemused glance. Zuko stood unwavering against his gaze. Aang looked upon the man with unease beginning to tie knots in his chest. He seemed...familiar.

"You are all simply astonishing," the man said with affectation. "Never before has our annual running of the warthog-buffalo exacted so much damage. And yet, you have brought something even more deleterious into my humble port..."

"_Does anyone have a dictionary?_" Sokka whispered.

"...You're snooping," the figure growled. Just then, the two other figures turned around and faced their visitors. Aang recognized the Air Nomad merchant while Sokka and Katara flinched at seeing their Cossack friend standing before them. The two men squirmed awkwardly and looked at the shaded man with expectant glances. "You are dismissed," he mandated. They quickly skittered out of the room, leaving the shadowy shape alone with his guests. "Your presence here has caused me a great deal of trouble."

"Forgive me for interrupting, _sir_," Zuko rejoined. "But we did not come here to be chided." The Arbiter's steely gray eyes shot a quick chagrined glance at the audacious retort. But as the Arbiter saw the gleaming confidence in Zuko's amber eyes, he began to regard the young leader with interest. "I am Zuko, lord of the Fire Nation and this," he said motioning towards Aang, "is the Avatar, Aang, with his friends Sokka and Katara." The man's irritancy seemed to fade as he descended the platform's steps towards his visitors.

"Well met," he said with new found politeness. "I am the Arbiter; prefect of Cordéiba,

The Arbiter

at your service." As he reached the bottom step, his form could be seen in greater detail. The light skinned man wore long, dark hair with braided sideburns while his stalwart face was framed by a dark goatee. He donned a steel-studded leather jerkin and was trailed by a grey, fur napped cape that was fastened to his broad shoulders by a silver draconian brooch. On his neck, he wore a silver torque. Despite the stranger's civility, Aang broke out into a cold sweat upon witnessing a strange rune inscribed on the man's forehead; a bright blue triadic knot. His heart now relentlessly pummeled his throat as the man spoke to Zuko.

"I realize that the former was an accident," he went on, "but your prying is all for naught. As I understand, you are all here searching for your missing compatriots. Am I correct?"

"They were abducted," Zuko corrected him. "And the people who did it came this way. That's what brought us here."

"I have labored extensively to ensure that this port is free of pirates and other scum-of-the-earth. You," he said looking at Zuko, "Have seen that for yourself."

"Even so," Zuko continued, "the culprits could still be hiding somewhere near here. We humbly ask for your aid in finding our stolen comrades." The man's eyes darted contritely to his lower left and returned to meet Zuko's with ill news.

"There is little I can do for your friends that does not overstep my boundaries as prefect," the man said solemnly. "All of my responsibilities lie here. I am truly sorry."

"You're sorry?" Katara said with her voice staggering in disbelief. "Innocent people are in danger and all you can do is stand here and say you're sorry?!" Sokka stood firmly beside Katara while Zuko shifted uncomfortably, hoping this wouldn't end badly. Aang stood as stiffly as a board, his skin pale and his eyes sharing Zuko's sentiments.

"What would you have me do?" the man questioned with returning aggravation.

"Step over some boundaries. Do something; anything besides standing here and doing nothing while people suffer!" Katara was standing directly in front of the tall man, meeting his furrowed brow with an angry scowl.

"I do intend to do something," the Arbiter said. "I intend to give you all good lodgings and fresh supplies so you will be prepared for your journey home. Allow my cleric friends to escort you to your room." From the side doors of the hall emerged a troop of men clad in shining plate-mail armor. Each man wore a tabard emblazoned with an emblem resembling a fierce gray dragon. The armored men surrounded them and patiently waited for their stir. "Before you go, heed my words," he commanded, pointing an imperious finger at them. Katara looked lividly past his digit. The man stood nonchalantly against her riptide of rage, simply staring back at her ferocious eyes and flaring nostrils. To her fury filled stare, his stoicism only represented arrogance. "Leave Cordéiba. Return from whence you all came. Nothing lies beyond this port besides an endless ocean that not even your flying yak can traverse." He started back up the steps of the dais. With a tone of finality and a broad sweep of his hand he said, "Go home."

Katara begrudgingly relented and followed one of the beckoning Clerics with Sokka beside her. Zuko awkwardly traipsed out behind them with Aang following. He couldn't help but feel relieved as he was escorted away from the domineering room and its intimidating master. But his relief was replaced by confusion as he saw another man enter the room. He wore a tall, tapered black hat wrapped around his head with a turban. His wiry frame was covered in long, blue, flowing robes that were adorned with strange symbols and runes. The old man strode into the room carrying a stack of scrolls and a prodigious gray beard that he wore tucked into a silken sash. The old man caught one wide eyed glimpse of Aang before he hurried up the steps towards the Arbiter. He could hear them engaging in a heated argument but could not discern the exchange as he left the room with the hall doors clanging ominously behind him.

"Ugh, what a jerk!" Katara said, flinging herself on a sofa-bed. They all strode into the spacious room, enchantingly decorated with red, purple and gold silks and wafted with sweet perfumes. It had apparently once been a harem. Aang and Sokka sunk into some of the many plush cushions and shams that littered the floor while Zuko turned and regarded one of the Clerics.

"If there's anything you need," the Cleric said behind his visor, "just—" Zuko slammed the door in his face. "Ouch," they could hear behind the carved wooden portal.

"They don't look much like monks to me," Aang mumbled sullenly.

"That's it, that's all you can say," Sokka erupted, "after some guy with a badger-mole devouring his head grounded us and sent us to our room like a couple of kids!"

"Yeah Aang," Katara said leaning against the arms of the sofa. "You didn't say a word the whole time we were in there. You just stood there, looking nervous." Aang shifted himself in his cushion while Zuko was stalking the length of the room, rubbing his chin pensively. "What's wrong?" she inquired with a concerned look.

Aang turned towards Katara and said, "He's the one I saw in my vision last night." Her eyebrows jumped up on her forehead and Sokka shot up out of his cushion.

"That explains it!" he exclaimed with a hysterical smile as though he were having an epiphany. "This dude is evil! All we have to do now is charge in there, kick his butt off that throne and interrogate him! It's brilliant!"

"Shhhhh!" Zuko hushed, covering Sokka's mouth with his palm. "He could be listening to us!" he said in a whisper. Zuko released his grip and Sokka slouched dispiritedly back into his cushion. "And besides," Zuko added, "he never actually sat on that throne."

"How is that important?" Katara asked.

"Well," Zuko started, "nothing here seems to fit. This place looks like it once belonged to some royal family, but now it seems more like a barracks. Their militant dress doesn't seem to match the opulence of the palace either."

"That guy's language sure did," Sokka remarked.

"And like Aang said," Zuko continued, "those 'Clerics' are definitely not priests. They remind me more of soldiers or drones than of religious men. And just the way they act and talk... it's almost like they're...faceless." All of their eyes widened. He turned towards his companions, shifting his eyes across the room. "_But...I guess there's nothing we can do about it_," he said with a wink from his scarred eye.

**Confrontation**

It was the dead of night. An eerie blue light filtered in through the harem window. Standing before the glowing panes of glass was a lithe figure, its toned curves starkly silhouetted against the silvery light of the moon. The harem door slowly creaked open and the form whirled around, brandishing two cruelly curved swords.

"Zuko?" Sokka whispered, peering into the room. "Whoa! Sorry, I'm still not used to seeing you all stealth mode like that."

"What is it Sokka?!" Zuko growled. "Why aren't you waiting for my signal like the others?"

"I just wanted to say...sorry for that incident before, uh... you know, when climbing over the wall." Sokka rubbed the back of his neck and looked dejectedly at the carpet as he went on. "And...that thing a few hours earlier...sometimes... ugh—"

"Spit it out," Zuko pressed. He didn't have time for this.

"Sometimes... I just don't know when to shut up."

"Okay...how is that important right now?" Zuko demanded.

"It's just," Sokka began, "...never mind, forget it."

"Whatever...just...go back and wait with Aang and Katara like we planned."

"Alright," Sokka murmured morosely as he ducked out of the room.

"Ugh," Zuko groaned. He pried open the window pane and slid stealthily onto the ledge and into the night, enveloping himself in the cool breezes of the sea. Below him he could see the city streets illuminated with the pale glow of torchlight, and off in the distance could glimpse the silvery moon reflected in the ocean waves. Catlike, he crawled and slinked his way across ledges and precipices, finally arriving at the roof of a courtyard in the center of the palace. He crawled across the terra-cotta tiled roof noiselessly, edging towards the lip of the atrium. In the courtyard, he could see a large bronze statue sitting atop a gushing fountain and the cloaked figure of the Arbiter kneeled on one leg in front of it. He heard him murmuring something under his breath, almost like a chant or prayer. Zuko paused for a moment, watching silently as the man bowed his head before the icon. As much respect as he wanted to have for this stranger's religion, his recent impression of this authoritarian figure left a bitter taste in his mouth. He could see Aang, Katara and Sokka each hidden behind a column at the far side of the courtyard, poised for action. He tensed his muscles, crouching and gaining leverage for a great leap.

Suddenly, the man whipped away from the statue, muttering curses and flailing his arms. The abruptness of the motion startled Zuko and nearly sent him toppling over the eaves. The Arbiter continued pacing agitatedly around the square; too busy pantomiming with frustration to notice the flabbergasted black blob wobbling on the rooftop behind him. Zuko regained his footing while just barely regaining his poise. "_Is this guy insane_?" he thought. Then, the Arbiter pointed at the effigy and directed all his anger towards it, seemingly out through his fingertip and into the bronze figure's brow. Confused, Zuko glanced up at the sentinel. The features of the blackish brown colossus were just fleshed out enough by the pale moon for Zuko to distinguish a heavily crowned, furrowed brow donning the statue's face. It seemed to look down upon the animated little dwarf remonstrating at it with a somber disappointment. The Arbiter continued railing against it as though he was fervidly arguing with the tall heap of metal.

Zuko understood. He pictured himself standing before paintings and murals of Fire Lord Ozai, arguing with the portraits as though with the man they portrayed. He remembered all the things he wanted to say to his father, but couldn't before that fateful day; the day of Black Sun. In the interim, the only thing he could ever talk to was a colored sheet of paper with a condemning scowl. "_Is this his father_?" he thought, gazing at the monument. He shook his head rigidly, dispelling his pity and empathy, banishing it completely as he drew his Dao swords. He couldn't let sentiment stand in the way. He had a mission to accomplish. His people were counting on him.

After recovering from the initial shock of the man's explosive outburst, Katara minimized herself against the bronze plated pillar listening intently to the Arbiter's rant.

"Some foreigners just drop out of the blinking blue on the back of a flying yak and threaten to undo all my years of hard work, and what do you do?! You just sit here, all prim and pretty on your pedestal as always you fat, stupid lump of clay! They're probably skulking about as we speak! Or ... I speak...gagh!" The livid man dashed his hands into the water of the fountain, sprinkling the base of the statue and the edge of Katara's hiding place with droplets of water.

She stole surreptitious glance around the stone column, attempting to discern more from this man's curious conversation. "Where are you?" he moaned, a sorrowful frustration leaking out of his panging throat. Katara saw his face begin to contort with longing, lines of distress etching their way through his face. "I'm here every night performing this damned invocation ritual and you stand silent. Why? You're supposed to be my guide...I need your strength..." He turned and slumped on the ledge of the fountain, hunching himself over the water. "...Because mine is failing." She shifted her gaze towards the object of his lamentations. She could see now the full features of the statue, highlighted by the moon. She could see its gaunt, broad face, molded with a flowing curtain of a beard and a mane of thick hair. Below its head stood a broad, sturdy frame along with a set of strong shoulders and two hands clutching a resting sword with confidence and assuredness.

The more she gazed at the stolid figure, the more it began to resemble her father. She remembered how he would once lift her young self up into the air and swing her around his head with joy at having returned home from a long tiger-seal hunt. She remembered giggling and squealing with delight as her father kissed her cheek and pressed his prickly stubble against her soft, ticklish cheeks. She remembered being held tightly in his arms, feeling safe and secure, as though for a moment all her confusion and fear melted in the warmth of his embrace. She then looked back up at the statue as it stood coldly in the night, casting a stern, reserved glance at the harrowed man below him. She knew the feeling that was beginning to creep into his haggard heart; the sensation of absence and abandonment. A feeling she knew from years of being apart from her father during the war; a feeling she had known for months of being apart from Aang. But she could not give in to sympathy; not this time. There were people that needed her. She stood quietly in the shadows, awaiting Zuko's signal.

Meanwhile, Aang and Sokka had also eavesdropped on the Arbiter's conversation with the metal memorial. They peered at the sullen man, wondering if he saw something in his reflection that they would recognize; the visage of a failure. But they had little time to reflect on this as they saw Zuko and Katara tensing up for the strike. It was time.

He drew a quiet breath and tensed his muscles for the coming fray. "_This is it_," Zuko thought. "_One mistake and I, along with a lot of other people, could end up dead_." He shut his eyes, bowed his head and made a quiet plea to the spirits, begging them for good luck. His lids shot open, revealing determined amber eyes, gleaming with fire as he leaped into the air. "NOW!"

The others whipped out from hiding as Zuko landed and dashed towards the center of the square. Before the Arbiter could as much as flinch, he was encased in a mound of earth and had a Dao sword pressed against his throat. "We know you've been behind the kidnappings," Zuko said. "Where are they?"

"I assure you, I have done no such thing," the Arbiter calmly replied. He just sat there, enduring the anger filled stares of his captors without a struggle or even a stir.

"Then why were you so hostile to our investigations?" Zuko demanded.

The detained man paused before answering grimly, "If you knew, then you would be flying back home on your yak as fast as he could carry you."

Then, suddenly, a deep rumble issued from the ground beneath them. It began to tremble and crack as several huge roots shot out of the ground like inverted lightning and pried the arbiter out of his earthen prison. He perched himself on one of the gargantuan roots and with a wave of his hand lofted himself into the sky. Standing boldly against the moonlight on his tall pedestal of wood, he shifted his weight and swung his harms, willing the other roots to thrash against the ground and fling his opponents to and fro across the courtyard. Aang frantically dodged each bristling tendril, zooming through the air on his glider. Katara bended whips of icy water out of the fountain and vehemently sliced at each grasping tentacle. Sokka and Zuko dodged each wooden whip and bounded across the courtyard, trying not to get strangled by the alien vines. The Arbiter continued gesturing on top of his platform; leaping, twisting, twirling and swinging his weight back and forth as though he were engaged in a bizarre dance with nature. With each fling of his arm or kick of his leg, a root sailed through the air towards his adversaries.

As his friends battled relentlessly against the rampaging roots, Sokka dove off behind one of the pillars. The slashing creepers now seemed preoccupied with his element bending allies. Perfect. He whipped out his boomerang and held it out from his body, aiming it towards the man who was dancing high up on his roost. Achieving a perfect angle, Sokka threw his projectile with all his might, sending it careening towards its target. But just as the boomerang was about to hit its mark, the weapon froze in mid-air. So too did the Arbiter stay his movements. The roots began to slow their squirming and for a moment all seemed still. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the Arbiter sent the suspended boomerang flying back to its master, hitting an astonished Sokka on the forehead and knocking him unconscious.

"He's a metal-bender!" Zuko shouted with urgency. Hearing this, the three remaining combatants hurled waves of water, torrents of flame and shards of earth with renewed vigor and fury. In little time at all, the roots were shred to pieces. Before the Arbiter could generate new ones, he was knocked off his purchase by a gust of Aang's bended air. After he tumbled to the ground, the Arbiter staggered and struggled to lift himself to his feet. Before he could revive himself he was confronted by the three benders crouching before him. "Give up!" Zuko commanded.

"If only I had..." the Arbiter wheezed, "...the luxury to." With a great heave, he morphed his arms into long tendrils and flung himself at his enemies. With their surprise, he was able to whip the combatants about and thrust them apart. But, suffering from fatigue, he was quickly pushed back.

"_He's made it clear that he's not going to stop and it won't be long before his friends come to his rescue_," Zuko thought. "_I have to finish this now_." He streamed his forefingers through the air, creating queues of blue, humming electricity behind them. His fingertips crackled as they released a brilliant blue light that gave pause to the fight and moved the combatants to shield their eyes from its harsh glare. Battered, beleaguered and surrounded by his enemies, the Arbiter could only press himself to the side of the fountain and brace himself for the onslaught. With a sharp motion, Zuko brought his hands to bear in the Arbiter's direction and released a slithering stream of pure power. The man disappeared behind a blinding flash and a deafening clap of thunder that carried them all off their feet.

For a brief moment, silence returned. There was only the light of the moon casting a dark veil around the court and the gurgling of the fountain echoing off the palace walls. The stunned warriors awoke from their brief daze, rubbed their eyes and let their wits reacquaint themselves with the dim quiet. A dumbfounding sight greeted their returning senses. Standing serenely before the moonlit sky was the imperious, shadowy form of the Arbiter. The three benders quickly recovered their stances and tensed for another strike from the silent man. Instead of a movement or blow, a steady sonorous hum emerged from his deep, resonating voice.

It reverberated through the air, the stone, the ground, and their very bodies. The sound was hypnotizing, enchanting; chilling. It sent a shudder through their spines as they hesitantly awaited the man's next move. Suddenly, the Arbiter's eyes darted open, revealing glowing blue orbs of light that filled the courtyard with a haunting radiance. His tattoo glowed likewise as he widened his stance and streamed his hands through the air, electrical arcs dancing between his outstretched fingertips. Barely before Zuko had time to react, the Arbiter ceased his humming and sent fierce streams of formidable lightning shooting towards him. Zuko winced and gritted his teeth, tensing his legs and back, trying desperately to direct the energy through his stomach and away from his heart. He then redirected the electricity through his fingertips and back at the Arbiter, managing only to strike his outstretched palm and create a circuit of ferocious energy.

They both stood locked in this coursing link of lightning as Aang and Katara looked on in awe. Zuko and the Arbiter strained against each other's power, squinting against the dazzling light. All around their sliding feet writhed tertiary bolts of electricity, frolicking at their sides as they slowly lost their grip on the surging bond of energy. But then, a great ball of flame erupted between them, abruptly breaking their circuit and bathing the previously blue courtyard in a warm, orange glow. Zuko and the Arbiter collapsed to their knees, wheezing and huffing with exhaustion at having been delivered from the threshold of cardiac arrest. Aang and Katara rushed to Zuko's side while two new visitors rushed into the courtyard. As Katara was busy healing Zuko, Aang could see that one of the figures was the blue robed old man, rushing to the Arbiter's side. The other figure stood between them, shrouded in a cloak. He removed his hood as he calmly approached the scene, revealing his full face in the moonlight.

"Uncle?!" Zuko gasped.

"Grandmaster Iroh?" the Arbiter uttered. "What brings you here?"

**The Quest**

Iroh poured a stream of hot Jasmine tea into several shallow cups that were laid out on a finely carved table. He had completed his sixth and was moving on to the final when the Arbiter held out his palm.

"Oh, no thank you," the Arbiter refused politely. "I'm not a tea person."

"You westerners sure are strange," the old man chuckled with a wide grin. "'Not a tea person', who had ever heard of such a thing!" He replaced the tea kettle on its harness in the fire of a glowing hearth that bathed the cheerfully decorated parlor with a warm light.

"No sir," the Arbiter said with a half-smile. "I prefer stronger liquids." He reached under the table and drew out a bottle of caramel colored fluid and poured a small dose into a snifter. "Brandy?" he offered. Bruised and battered, Aang, Katara, Zuko and Sokka sat stiffly in a wing-backed leather sofa, glaring at him with murder in their eyes. "You gave me headache," he mumbled facetiously as he downed the liquor. Iroh looked at them all and a wide grin started crossing his face. He sniggered, trying to hold in his amusement until it burst out and he almost started crying with laughter. They all looked at him with expressions varying from crossness or bewilderment to concern for the guffawing geezer's health.

"Ho, ho, _hrm_, oh, I'm so sorry," the cheery old man apologized. "It's just, this whole situation we find ourselves in, it's all just..._ahh_," the old man sighed from the effort of containing his humor. "It's just that life really has a way of putting us in these sorts of situations; instances that seem confusing and upsetting, but you just can't help but laugh when you stand back and take it all in." With his words, the companions couldn't help but grin or wheeze a bit. A half-smile even managed to creep across the Arbiter's face. The mood overall rose to reflect the lighthearted embellishment of the room.

"What has transpired here is no laughing matter!" a deep, haggard voice declared from the corner of the room. Sitting in a shadowy cleft near the mantle-piece was the old man that Aang had seen before. The gaunt old creature rose from the shadows. Standing nearly as tall as the ceiling with his pointed hat, he drifted towards the center of the room, his dark, starry robes creating a space-like void in the warm comfort of the lounge. He wafted his wispy, ringed hands towards the group, revealing the only bit of his wiry frame that tapered out from his robe bolstered form. "Had you not arrived when you did, Grandmaster Iroh, these two," he said pointing a bony finger at Zuko and the Arbiter, "would have murdered each other, leaving a horrible mess to tarnish one of our most cherished historical monuments." The companions looked at him in darkened surprise, while the Arbiter widened his grin and Iroh chuckled.

"Always the dramatist Archmage Emrys," Iroh said mirthfully. "But don't be too hard on them. I remember the first time when I visited Cordéiba as a White Lotus Acolyte. I was so bewildered. The only center I could find to latch on to was the city's exotic selection of tea, and your knowledge of this world Master Mage," he said with a bow to the wizened old man. With only a slight raise of his eyebrow the wizard folded back his robe and sash so he could sit stiffly upon an ottoman before the table. "Perhaps our guests could use some of your knowledge; it might do well to settle their frayed nerves as, I'm afraid, tea has not done the trick."

"Very well," the mage relented with a blasé tone. He fumbled and fished around under the table until he procured an antique wooden box, engraved with cartographical symbols and meridians. He pried the container open, extracting various scrolls of parchment, measuring instruments, writing utensils, quills and inkwells.

Sokka groaned nervously at the erudite paraphernalia before Iroh leaned in and whispered in his ear. "_Don't worry; Archmage Emrys' storytelling arts are legendary around these parts. You're in for a treat_."

"Let us begin," the mage said, snapping his fingers. Within an instant, all the candles in the room capped themselves and a large metal grate slid itself over the fire. They all sat in darkness, a stunned silence coming over the four companions. They could hear the deep, grave voice of the magician emerge from the darkness, seeming to originate from nowhere and everywhere at once. It was without an echo; simply omnipresent. "The Brotherhood of the Draconian Clerics, the Order of the White Lotus, and your host, the Arbiter, have worked together for many years to maintain one of the best kept secrets in history. You have just stepped over the threshold of a new world."

From all around them emerged multitudes of bright, twinkling lights; the coronas of thousands of stars. Swirling from the ceiling to the floor were clouds of luminous stellar gases and glowing nebulae. Circling their astonished, wonder filled eyes were comets of light that left sparkling trails as they passed by. Were it not for the force of gravity holding them to the floor they would have felt suspended in the shining darkness, as though in space itself. Before them they could see a blank piece of parchment unfurled on the table in front of the mage. He dabbed his quill in an inkwell and scrawled a circle across the paper. Closing his eyes, the old sage twisted his hands and fingers in odd motions above the drawing, murmuring strange incantations. Then the marks on the paper seemed to glow and emit rivulets of light. The shining ribbons hovered above the table, twisting and writhing around until they formed a blue hued sphere. On the surface of the sphere they could see a green light begin to form strange shapes that they eventually recognized to be the familiar continents of the world they knew. It was as though they were looking upon the earth from the heavens.

With a flick of the Archmage's wrist, the globe circled through the air, presenting them with a set of shapes that were foreign to their eyes. "This...is Midland," the old mage said. "A land occupying the part of the world you thought was only ocean; existing thousands of years in ignorance of the rest of the world and with the rest of the world ignorant of it, thanks to our efforts." Their eyes widened, and they looked at each other with amazement before returning their gaze to the luminous blue-green orb. The old man scribbled some more shapes on the parchment and as he did so several lines began to simultaneously etch themselves into an insignia on the hovering sphere's surface. The symbol resembled a tree, glowing russet brown against the globe's blue surface and positioned next to a small island on the eastern side.

"The Wood Clans," Archmage Emrys began, "are self-reliant and proud. Much like the trees themselves, they stand tall and strong while being rooted firmly in the ground. Their culture and heritage has endured for several millennia, drawing strength from brotherhood and valor. But at times they stand more like oaks than willows, being unwilling to bend with the breeze or to stand beside each other through the storms." The master paused to slake his thirst with a cup of tea before continuing, leaving his audience famished for his words. "The people of the Wood Clans practice a style of bending that involves influencing and directing the growth of living things. Almost any organism in their possession is a tool for them to use, their own bodies included."

"_Whoa, cool,_" Sokka remarked with a whisper.

"_Very,_" Iroh concurred in a hushed voice. The mage then added more scribbles to the parchment, producing a metallic grey shape on the surface of an immense landmass that dominated the far western side of the globe. The sigil was formed by a sharp triangle with a small dot and a circle concentric to it centered within its borders.

"The people of the Metal Empire are stoic and cerebral...Ideally," the mage added with a troubled tone. "Their philosophy is one of logic and control. They seek to learn all that is learnable and to disavow human emotions for the sake of this objective; an enlightened philosophy for an unenlightened time."

"_If you ask me, it sounds like they really need to lighten up,_" Iroh whispered with quiet giggles constituting his response.

"Er-em," the sage cleared his throat. ""As I was saying, practitioners of metal bending once (and some still do) used their arts to aid them in the pursuit of higher knowledge. Metal bending grants one the ability to control the forces of electromagnetism, letting one experiment with metal objects, electrical energy, light and even the thoughts in our own heads. All stem from or are affected by electromagnetic energy and can fall under the sway of a metal bending master... like myself." The four companions looked at the Archmage with perturbed eyes, keeping careful tabs on their inner dialogue. The mage grinned and continued. "The Metal Empire is just that unfortunately: an Empire. About a thousand years ago, a small settlement of metal benders grew into a powerful city state that ambitiously conquered its neighbors." The sage pierced the parchment with the quill, staining it with ink that spread steadily through the paper. A grey shadow appeared on the sphere that grew in tandem with the ink stain, voraciously clawing its way towards the corners of the continent like wildfire, only ceasing its repast once it had devoured the small island hovering near its borders. "A little over a century ago the Wood clans succumbed to the might of the Metal Empire, paying the price for their disunity. With the subjugation of the Wood Clans the Metal Empire became the undisputed master of Midland. In what they now view as a splendid golden age, the Imperials have grown arrogant and decadent, allowing corruption and poverty to fester where their intransigent regime does not rear its porcine head."

The bright sphere dissolved into glowing tendrils of smoke that twisted into a blue triadic knot matching the one emblazoned on the Arbiter's forehead. "As you all may have noticed in your scuffle this evening, those in Midland with the power to bend the elements do so much differently from what you are all accustomed to. Wood bending Druids and metal bending Magi focus and control their bending with the arts of their disciplines, such as tribal dances, songs, incantations or chants. This is because eons ago the power of bending was regarded as a mystical or divine force, endowing benders with influence in addition to physical might. The most powerful of these figures was the Arbiter who used his powers primarily to mediate between the physical realm and that of Anún, else called the Spirit World. You know, gazing at the clouds, eating psychedelic mushrooms and berries, reading pig entrails; all that tripe," he said with a brush of his hand. "But several millennia ago, one Arbiter began the tradition that is the current Arbiter's toil; maintaining peace between the nations of Midland." With finality, the Archmage snapped his fingers once more and the room returned to light. The grate retracted itself from the fireplace, returning the salon to its original inviting atmosphere.

"Whoa," Sokka remarked. "So, how did you produce those illusions? Did you use metal bending to create them out of light or did you just beam the images into our heads?" he inquired with a forefinger at his temple.

The old man sniggered sadistically and stroked his beard. "An Archmage never reveals his secrets."

"That's awful," Aang piped up. "I understand that things are pretty tense in your part of the world, but I helped restore balance to mine. You're saying that for all this time, two worlds have shunned each other when they could have helped each other bring peace and understanding."

"You can't be serious," the Arbiter said incredulously. "Look at the damage that's been done from just one day of your band being here."

"Stay your tongue!" the mage barked at the Arbiter. "You will not chide our guests in front of me! Perhaps with you here, Master Iroh, you can help me straighten out my stubborn apprentice. His belligerence has been running me bow-legged!"

"Oh, I'm the belligerent one!?" the Arbiter exclaimed with umbrage, standing and pacing across the room. "It was these bastards that attacked me!" he said, pointing at the four scowling individuals huddled in the sofa. "I was by myself, performing the invocation ritual, when these cowards burst out of the shadows like a couple of panther-hounds and mobbed me. Apparently these bogtrotters don't know good hospitality when they see it," he added jestingly. He then laughed fiendishly as the room erupted with protest at his gibe.

"Now hold on!" Iroh intervened. "Things could have been much worse."

"That's right," the Arbiter said. "I could have had your lot clapped in the stocks to be pelted with vegetables."

"Yeah," Sokka retorted. "Or we could have pounded you into pulp and fed you to Appa."

"Stop it, both of you!" Iroh commanded, raising his voice. "To answer your question Aang, this is why we have kept our worlds apart. This is what the whole world would be like if it truly knew itself. Only, far more dire results would spring from much more petty squabbles. If these circumstances hadn't emerged, you wouldn't have been told any of this."

"If I had been allowed to do my job, none of you would even be here," the Arbiter said. "But good Lugh, not even a lightning storm could keep you away!" Their eyes widened with shock and realization, but the Arbiter ignored them and proceeded. "So, exactly what circumstances prevent me from expelling these interlopers, which ex officio, is part of my profession?" the Arbiter queried.

"We have just recently received banshee-falcons from New Caerleon and Ferraria Skye," Archmage Emrys said. "Their reports indicate a rash of disappearances cropping up within Wood Clan territory and Imperial borders." The Arbiter fell into a nearby chair, seemingly taken aback as he listened to the mage's report. "Similar anomalies have occurred in their part of the world. This situation affects us all."

"Wait, I thought _you_ were responsible for the kidnappings," Zuko said, referring to the Arbiter. "We know the people who attacked us were metal benders and if it's your responsibility to keep our worlds separate, then it would follow that you would want to stifle our attempts at exploration."

"Actually, we _have_ detained some of your exploratory convoys," the Arbiter explained, glancing up at Zuko from his chair. "I scuttle the ships, drop off the crew on a tropical island and bribe them into saying that they were shipwrecked. But I haven't touched your colonies or your city."

"Then it must be the Metal Empire," Sokka interjected. "I mean, guys, it's called the _Metal Empire_."

"No, the Imperials wouldn't kidnap their own citizens," Master Emrys said. "This is likely the work of rebellious metal benders. They have used impressments to bolster their cause before, but they have never reached this far. Nothing about this situation bodes well," he said, stroking his beard.

"That is why you are all here," Iroh said, addressing the young compatriots. "Tensions between the Wood Clans and the Imperials have reached a fever pitch in recent years and these disappearances have only added fuel to the fire. You all must go with the Arbiter to the Wood Clan capital of New Caerleon and help him negotiate a peace." Before they could all shoot up out of their seats and protest, Iroh held out his hand and motioned them to silence. "If peace does not prevail in this land then any chance you have of finding the abductors will evaporate into the fog of civil war."

"While you are there," Archmage Emrys added, "you will be able to consult the Druids; shamans and sages that live in the wilds that are home to the Wood Clans. Those regions have sheltered rebel metal benders before. If your friends are being held there then the Druids will likely know."

Iroh looked at the companions expectantly and said, "It is imperative that you all work together in order to see this through. It will not only mean a resolution to both of our conflicts, but it will also be an opportunity to build an everlasting peace between our cultures."

Katara and Sokka folded their arms and looked crossly at the Arbiter, who was looking on as he sat hunched over in his wing back chair. Zuko and Aang glanced at each other with uncertainty before nodding in agreement with Iroh. With cynical looks, the Water Tribe siblings relented as well. "And what is your decision master Arbiter?" Iroh asked. The man still sat in the chair, resting on his knees and looking downcast as he pondered his answer.

"Very well Grandmaster Iroh, I respect your judgment," he said rising from his seat, "even if I disagree with it; letting these vagrants traipse around our country to clean up after my negligence. I am used to not having much of a choice," the Arbiter sighed. "I'll play nursemaid to your 'ambassadors'." With that he left the room, leaving Archmage Emrys shaking his head and the three friends scowling.

"Well then," Iroh said clapping his hands together. "Now that it is decided, we will have to make arrangements for your departure. The city of New Caerleon is hosting a summit between all the leaders of the Wood Clans in about a week, so if you want to get there in time you will have to leave tonight. I hope your sky bison is well rested."

"He should be," Emrys said, "after the barrels upon barrels of tranquilizers that my student has had fed to him."

"WHAAATTT!" Aang exploded.

The four companions stood out on a veranda overlooking a piazza enclosed on all sides by the palace walls. The night air was cool and the moonlight cold. In the square below, they could see several Clerics packing Appa's saddle and feeding the lethargic creature large bushels of coffee beans.

"A whole other world," Zuko recited in awe. He leaned on the banisters, taking in the night sky as though it had suddenly expanded and filled itself with new stars.

"I know," Aang remarked with wondrous eyes. "We'll be able to see an exciting new place with exciting new people. And the best part is we'll be able to see it all together. It'll be another one of our adventures. "

"One does not simply waltz into Midland and take in the scenery," Archmage Emrys said as he emerged onto the veranda with Iroh. "This is no garden party."

"Well," Aang began to respond, "Team Avatar usually likes to start its missions with a more upbeat attitude."

"The word, 'upbeat', is going to vanish from your vocabulary pretty quickly where you're going," the old wizard said grimly. "Cordéiba may seem like a cultural hub. But it is, in fact, a refuge; a rubbish bin for all the peoples that our world has rejected out of prejudice, bigotry and grievance. Expect neither a warm welcome nor excitement from Midland. This is a labor." He broke apart from the group and walked down the length of the balcony. Katara decided to follow after the old man, leaving Iroh and her three friends sitting on the banisters, eyeing each other sullenly.

"Excuse me, sir?" Katara approached. The mage halted and turned towards his petitioner. "Um...you're a Cleric, right?" she asked with apprehension.

"Wrong," the old man rapidly replied. "The oldest of the Magi are far too reclusive to join the likes of the Brotherhood. But I assume that you mean to ask me about the statue that you saw in the courtyard earlier this evening. You wonder as to whom it depicts and what significance it has to my student, the Arbiter," the sage concluded.

She could only thinly disguise her unease at the old wizard's seeming omniscience, but she nodded her head and waited patiently for his answer. With hesitation the old mage began to explain. "It is a memorial dedicated to our most revered leader and the ancestor of all the Arbiters, Draco Arcturon; the King, once and ever-after." The name almost seemed to uplift her, to fill her with a hopefulness that appeared out of nowhere. Whether it was the sound of the name itself or the dramatic tone with which the wizard declared it, she didn't know. With a primed and eager curiosity, Katara listened as the old man's voice deepened with nostalgia.

"Centuries ago, he united the various tribes of Midland into one nation, then known as the Middle Kingdom, and for a short time in our history there was peace and prosperity. The Clerics devote themselves to aiding the Arbiter in his many duties, one of them being to learn a ritual like the one you and your friends interrupted this night." Katara looked abashedly at her feet as the mage elaborated.

"The ceremony entails the invocation of Arcturon's spirit, to seek his knowledge and guidance in dark times. And now, of all times, he refuses to approach my pupil," he said forlornly.

"I think I'm beginning to understand," Katara said. "He must feel...abandoned." She looked condolingly on the Arbiter as he walked out into the square below and started helping the Clerics pack Appa's howdah with various containers and satchels. "Arcturon is meant to be his guide...there is only so much advice I can impart without making things more difficult for him," he said with frustration. The old sage looked dolefully upon the Arbiter as he heaved under the weight of heavy satchels and trunks.

"I'm sure you do all you can," Katara said. "You definitely seem like the fatherly type," she added with a smile.

"I wish I could do more," the old man muttered dejectedly. "Each of Arcturon's descendants is entitled to his wisdom," the old man said growing hoarse. "And by rights he deserves it!" he burst, slamming his fist on the banister. Katara was amazed to see the old sage's eyes begin to well up, leaking tears onto his snow white beard. "Forgive me," he shuddered, trying to mop up the moisture and straighten his face.

"It's alright," Katara consoled. She grasped his sleeve in commiseration, causing the man to flinch at first but then to settle at seeing the earnestness in her face.

"He is so attentive to his studies...so committed to his duties... and he's dealt with so much," the man rued. "It is difficult seeing him like this." They both continued to watch the Arbiter heave under the weight of his burdens. "At times, I suppose, the grand order of things just deigns to point its finger at someone and say 'you're it, you're the bastard!'" he said with a furtive sniff. "And yet...without my help...without anyone's support, he keeps trudging on...all on his own." The old man wiped away another tear and smiled as Katara looked into his deep gray eyes with reassurance. "No one has made me more proud."

"We'll do our best to help your pupil Master...uhm...—"

"Emrys," the mage said with a small grin. "I realize it's difficult to pronounce." They both chuckled a bit and strolled back towards their companions.

"I know that this is all a lot to take in at one time," Iroh said to the three companions. "I was just as disoriented at learning all of this as you are."

"Actually," Aang began, "that's not what's troubling me."

"Oh?" inquired Iroh. Aang shook his head. His friends looked at him concernedly, expecting the young monk to explain himself, but he hesitated.

"Don't worry," Iroh reassured him. "You needn't fear sharing your feelings, especially with your closest friends."

"Yeah Aang," Sokka encouraged. "Tell us what's on your mind."

Aang bowed his head and stared at his feet before murmuring his answer. "I'm afraid."

"Of what?" Sokka asked.

"Of this world," Aang answered. "Of what that man said. Of..." He tried desperately not to say 'the Arbiter'. "...everything. I feel like all that we went through during the war is happening all over again. I'm facing another war, another Fire Nation...and I ran away again. I could have missed all of this and neglected my duty as the Avatar."

"Don't blame yourself for this, young Avatar," Iroh said. "You could not have known about this world before all of this; that has been our doing," the Grandmaster Lotus said as he pointed to his pedaled collar.

"I meant about leaving Republic City," Aang mumbled.

"Ah," Iroh remarked, stroking his beard. The old man paused reflectively and then smiled, approaching Aang as he sat on the banisters. "If things are starting to seem familiar to you, then you should also remember how you were able to unite four peoples and defeat the Fire Nation, all without having to take a life."

"But what if I can't do it again?" Aang posed to the world. "I'm not that good at politics. What if I won't be able to help the Arbiter on his mission of diplomacy?"

"I wasn't calling your abilities into question, young Avatar," Iroh said with warmth in his old, raspy voice. "I was saying that not too long ago you had hope for a brighter future. You held faith in the belief that the people of the four nations were not as separate as they believed. With that faith in your heart, you united four cultures. If you keep that faith and believe in yourself then what are two more?"

Iroh's eyes twinkled as he saw his wisdom begin to lift the spirits of his audience. "Do not let Master Emrys' words discourage you," he said to the three friends. "It is true that this world is a dark one. Around here, old wounds open and close like a shutter flapping in the wind, and they fester and stink like Zuko's attempts at making black tea," he said with a sly grin. Aang and Sokka giggled while Zuko gave an awkward smile and a pair of upturned hands. "Sorry," Iroh chuckled. "But it's true. Anyway...as I was saying, such adversities can create beautiful things. In the smoldering coals of this world's strife a beautiful and rich culture has bloomed. If you just mind the thorns then you will be able to appreciate the flower." They then started hearing grunting noises in the distance. Shifting around, they could see the Arbiter groaning as he tried to lift Appa to his feet. He made surprising progress considering that the sky bison weighed ten tons.

"Come off it ya fat lummox!" they could hear him grumble.

"The same goes for the Arbiter," Iroh added. "I know you all have mixed feelings about him, but try not to be too harsh. He is just as confused and conflicted as all of you. For a long time it was his duty to prevent two nations and two worlds from ripping each other apart. You can imagine how that can put a lot of stress on a man." They observed a pensive silence and watched as the Arbiter struggled to coax Appa into liveliness. "On my last few visits to Cordéiba, I have gotten to know the Arbiter quite well. Once you get past his standoffish exterior, he turns out to be quite the young gentleman."

"MOVE DAMMIT!" they could hear in the distance.

They turned and looked at the old man skeptically, but Iroh continued to smile. "In fact, something about him reminds me of you," Iroh said, looking at Zuko. The young Fire Lord raised his scared eyebrow quizzically as his uncle explained. "Like you, he has endured many internal struggles and uncertainties. Give him a chance and I'm sure that you all will find more in common with him than you expect." Zuko looked downwards in introspection before nodding to his uncle.

Sokka leaned over and said, "Well I just hope he doesn't give us any more of his attitude. I just want to get in there, find the hostages and get out. And so help me, if he quotes the dictionary one more time I'll..."

"Alright, your cow's conscious," the Arbiter shouted. "Let's get a move on!"

"It was good seeing you again Uncle," Zuko said as they embraced. Iroh bid them all farewell as they descended down the steps into the piazza, but Zuko hesitated. "Before I go there's one thing...do you..." Zuko stammered, "...do you think I made the right choice coming on this mission? Was it irresponsible of me to leave my throne vacant to come on this journey?"

"Zuko," Iroh said with an affectionate sigh. "You should not be as concerned with where you _are_ when you lead the Fire Nation, but with where you are _going_." Iroh approached his nephew and put a reassuring palm on his shoulder. "When many leaders would have directed this mission from within the safety and comfort of a palace, you instead decided to lead the charge. You make me proud, my nephew. Now go, there are people who need rescuing," he said with a grin.

Zuko smiled in return and rushed out to join the group. They each mounted Appa, who was ill tempered after his rude awakening, and nestled themselves in the howdah with an awaiting Momo. The excited creature greeted his friends with delighted chatters before climbing on Aang's shoulder. The Arbiter shouldered a rucksack as he approached the growling bison.

"Pack it in Bessie!" he barked at Appa. "I'm working nights. And that goes for you too fluffy," he said, pointing at the hissing lemur-bat.

"Wait a minute sir," Aang said. "Before you come with us, we have to know one thing."

"And that would be?" the Arbiter asked impatiently.

"Your name. We only know your title, not who you are." The Arbiter paused and shifted his gaze to the side as Aang patiently waited for his answer.

"I have a lot of names, depending on where I travel," the Arbiter said, groaning as he climbed into Appa's saddle. "Call me what you like besides 'sir'. Unless this job has been putting years on me that I haven't counted, I'm no older than your friend in the nightgown," he said, pointing to Zuko in his black jumpsuit.

"That still isn't an answer," Aang said expectantly.

"Well," the Arbiter began, scratching his neck and looking downward with hesitation. "I suppose you could call me Liam. It was my first name."

"Mine is Zuko by the way, just in case you forgot," the young Fire Lord said with slight irritancy.

"Pleasure to meet you," the Arbiter replied, regaining his courteousness.

"Why don't we all start again," the young monk proposed. "I'm Aang, and this is Sokka and Katara. The sky bison," Aang said placing special emphasis on the beast's taxonomy, "is called Appa, and that Lemur-bat playing with your hair is Momo."

"Charmed," the young man grumbled as Momo batted at his braided sideburns.

As he shooed away the Lemur and settled onto the floor of the saddle he set down a bundle of metal objects wrapped in a leather tarp. They could distinguish a multitude of menacing weapons poking out of the package; an array of formidable thrusting knives, an assortment of throwing hatchets and a collection of strange looking swords.

"What, are you going to war or something?" Katara jested.

"In a manner of speaking we all are," the Arbiter answered. "The road to New Caerleon is going to be dangerous, we'd best be prepared. Now enough chit-chat; let's get this space cow in the sky before I get even more years put on me." With a crack of the reigns and the usual 'yip-yip', Appa sluggishly took to the air, leaving the two old men waving on the balcony in the distance. As they climbed higher into the silver lined clouds and cool wind of the night, tension started to build between the occupants of the saddle. The Arbiter was busy sharpening his Claymore as Zuko, Katara and Sokka looked at each other with silent desperation.

Katara, rubbing her neck, ventured "So, Liam...tell us about yourself." The Arbiter's steely grey eyes darted towards them as he kept whetting his blade. Appa ascended into the night sky, becoming a black dot against the bright, full moon.

**I am Skuult**

"I said, who are you?!" Toph demanded. Her bony prisoner glared at her through reviling eyes, gathering the breath to answer in a voice that grated like scraping metal.

"I...am High Druid Skuult."

"Alright scruffy," Toph began with apprehension. "Why did you bring this plague to Ba-Sing-Se?" The alien's tongue darted quickly out of his mouth as a snake's, as though tasting the fear filled air. Toph's students could have sworn they saw a forked tongue slide across his chapped lips.

"My people..." the Druid commenced, "are fighting a monster known as...the Imperator." She didn't know why, whether it was just the sound of the name or some foreboding bewitchment that it carried, but the very mention of it sent shivers down her spine. She tried to hide her disquiet as she held her captive, but his reptilian eyes only seemed to glitter with wicked satisfaction. "We are in dire need of more soldiers to resist him. How has my recruitment drive been progressing?" he said with a malicious grin.

"What are you talking about!?" Toph barked, pinning the Druid even tighter to the wall. The stranger gagged and clutched the spire of rock with his skeletal claws.

"The Black Blight," he wheezed, "is a fungus that invades the minds of its victims and..._gargh_...binds their will to my own." Toph's arms started quivering as she tried desperately not to smear her hostage all over the wall.

"Well..." she said, her voice beginning to tremble with fury, "unbind them!"

The ancient man's grin parted as he began to fill the library with echoes of his cackling, wheezing laughter. Toph's eyes twitched with rage as he began to recover from the exuded breath of his chortling. The withered stranger stared malignantly into Toph's blind eyes before he emitted a sudden, blood curdling screech.

"FAFNIIIIIIR!"

Toph could hear the beat of enormous wings before a sickening crash and echoing clatter resounded across the grand library. Toph's students ducked behind furniture and book cases to avoid the hail of glass shards and debris that rained across the room. Shielding herself with a slab of rock, she waited out the shower of shrapnel. When the hail of rubble ceased, Toph's disciples peered out from their shelter but became paralyzed with numbing fear at the sight awaiting them.

An enormous black shape crawled across the darkness, its colossal frame made visible by the light of the library fireplaces. The huge creature ambled about on its titanic, leathery wings; a steady beat of _THOOM...THOOM...THOOM_. A long, serpentine neck emerged from the mass and sniffed the air with a deep, throaty hiss. Toph's students dove for cover as the monster's cat like eyes raked their way across them. Spotting its master, the creature's great glowing orbs widened with rage. The shadowy creature reared on its legs and extended its wings, filling the room with its vast form. Its long snout pried open and drew a great breath.

"RRRROOOOOOOAAAAAARRR!"

The imprisoned Druid let loose more maniacal cackles as his pet filled the entire palace with a warbling, ear shattering bellow. Toph diverted her attention away and braced herself against the nightmarish monster.


	3. Chapter 3

**Avatar: Legend of the Arbiter**

Book 1: Wood ~ Ch. 3: A Brave New Port

"ROOOAAAAARRRR!"

Toph made the first move. With a sweep of her leg and a thrust of her arm, she sent a spire of rock shooting through the library floor, pinning the struggling creature to the ceiling. Thrashing and screeching, the writhing serpent wriggled out of its stony hold and was free to leap across the library with dumbfounding agility. Quick as a flash, book cases shattered, tables splintered, and columns crumbled under the predator's feline fury. The beast slithered across the tiers of the library like a shadow with a sledge hammer, pulverizing everything it fell across and demolishing all tranquility with it. Belching columns of flame at the earth bender girl, the dragon illuminated the room with a menacing glow. Toph shielded herself from the fiery tirade, mustering every bit of her strength simply to keep the beast at bay. In desperation, she hurled boulders, rocks, pebbles, dirt, dust; anything to buy her some time until...her friends would arrive. "Aang!" she swore to herself. "Where are you when I need you?"

**Port MacLir**

"And that's how you do the Phoenix Flight," Aang declared with exuberance. He struck a flamboyant pose in Appa's howdah, having just finished a lively demonstration of a traditional Fire Nation dance. The rustling wind and midday sun both struck off his bald, arrow clad head as Appa soared over the ocean waves. His flamboyantly outstretched arms creaked with tension as he awaited a response from his audience.

"Oh, lovely Master Aang," Liam murmured with feigned delight. The Arbiter's face could barely be seen behind a wall of parchment but his underwhelmed commentary could be heard without muffle. "I've never seen such a flawless impersonation of a bogan-chicken on mushrooms." Aang knelt on the saddle floor with a self-conscious smile while Katara and Zuko snickered in amusement and Sokka clutched his sides in laughter.

"Forgive me Master Aang," Liam said, "but we'll have time for some cultural exchange later. Now we must look sharp, we'll be arriving at our first stop soon." He then splayed the map out on the floor of the saddle and its occupants all leaned towards it intently. Depicted on the sheepskin was a large, stout island with many notes and captions inscribed all around it in ink. "This is Milesia," he said with a finger on the green shape, "home of the Wood Clans. And this is our destination," he added, his digit drifting towards the top left corner of the map, "the city of New Caerleon. In about a week the leaders of all the Clans and the Imperial regional governors will meet there for the Tuath Comhairle to conduct diplomatic affairs. This," he said, dragging his finger to the lower right, "is Port MacLir; our first stop. It's a shady place, but we can at least get a cozy inn and something better to eat than rations."

"Sounds good to me," Sokka said, patting his stomach with anticipation.

"Not to sound blunt," Zuko began, sitting up in his seat, "but we shouldn't get too comfortable. What I'm most concerned with is getting to the capital as quickly as possible so we can restore peace and find the kidnappers; these 'metal bending rebels' that Emrys spoke of."

"About that," Aang interjected, shifting in his seat and tensing his shoulders. "How _are_ we going to help restore peace, especially if we're strangers here?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Katara said, leaning towards Aang and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Their eyes met fondly for the briefest moment before they noticed that they had an audience. "I mean—we'll all think of something once we're well rested." Both Katara and Aang blushed as they tried to pry their gazes away from each other.

"To answer all your questions," Liam began, "our benefactors believe that your shared experiences and unique perspectives will make enough of an impression on the people of Midland to spur a peaceful resolution to their troubles."

"That shouldn't be a problem!" Sokka declared, grabbing Aang on the shoulder. "Not for the guys who saved the world as kids!—or at least...half of it. But don't you worry, Li Yum, this place is as good as saved."

"I'm relieved," the Arbiter murmured with a sideways glance. "And my name is Liam." As Sokka and Aang exchanged confused glances, the Arbiter rolled up his map and placed it in his rucksack. "What you all need to complete this mission is a good rapport with the people of these lands. That'll be an especially hard thing to acquire from the people of Milesia in only a few days, especially in a place where it's really bad to get..." He paused upon seeing a patch of hair shifting around in his rucksack. "...LOST!" he barked, seeing Momo pop his head out of the bag, shredded pieces of paper clinging to his muzzle. Seizing the Lemur by the scruff of his neck, he tossed Momo into Aang's lap. Unnoticing, the little creature kept contentedly nibbling on the feather of a quill as he curled himself in his master's sheltering arms. "Restrain your beast before it kills us all," Liam growled as Aang shot him a reproachful glance. "If we're fortunate," he continued, regaining his composure, "we'll have an uneventful trip."

"Don't bother telling us what happens if we're unfortunate," Zuko said as he sat up on the saddle floor, "because we're almost there." Zuko pointed to the horizon, all a periwinkle blue except for a dark shape that stretched for miles in either direction. As they approached the periphery of the island, all they could see was a thick white mist, pierced by the rays of the mid-afternoon sun. Getting closer, the curtain of fog began to part and they all leaned over the front of the howdah to behold the spectacle before them. Greeting their eyes was a tapestry of lush, verdant green draped atop towering cliffs of weathered, ochre black stone. They could see miles of undulating fields and majestic hillsides, shining like glittering emeralds as they reached for the sapphire sky.

"It's breathtaking," Katara gasped. "Who could be gloomy about this place?"

"Milesia may look pretty," Liam said. "But make no mistake. Between those hills there lay many things ancient and wild." Undeterred, they kept soaking in the scrumptious scenery, savoring it with the accompaniment of crisp sea breezes slipping gently over the coast. Reaching the cliff sides, they were greeted by flocks of screeching selkie-seagulls and shrieking merrow-gannets, soon joined by the excited bleats of many flying wooly creatures. "Sky rams, Liam identified. "Pay them no mind." Appa let out an excited bellow of camaraderie at the curiously babbling sheep that circled him, and bid them another grumble of farewell as he approached a large fjord. There's our destination," he said, pointing to a cluster of buildings and ships at the end of the passage.

Aang boosted himself onto Appa's neck with a gust of air and tensed on the reigns. An obliging Appa drifted down towards the water's mirrored surface with a drowsy grumble. In moments, the sky bison bore his passengers to a mess of sprawling docks attached to a small town. Upon alighting on an empty pier, the weary travelers began to dismount. Aang, disembarking first, took his first glance at Milesia up close. All around him he saw swarms of docked ships, brandishing russet brown sails and pitch black hulls. Between them he saw various bustling passersby, looking with apprehension at the furry beast that appeared in their harbor.

"Stay close to me," Liam said as he climbed off the sky bison. "And look sharp. This was the first place to report disappearances so people will be skittish, especially with foreigners in their midst." As they followed the Arbiter down the city streets, Aang couldn't help but stray a bit as he absorbed his new surroundings. Each gray cobbled road, winding path and meandering sidewalk moseyed on through the enveloping eaves of all the houses, shops, taverns, workshops and smithy's, relaxingly nudging their guests in the right direction. The atmosphere would have been that inviting without the slamming of shutter doors and the wary whispers of those they passed.

Passing besides him on the streets were various sailors and civilians, meandering about on their daily errands until sighting the parade of alien visitors. Before they could scurry or stride away, Aang could see their roughhewn and pastel clothing. To his first impression, the country's wardrobe consisted of a prosaic variety of woolen tunics, long sleeved shirts, sweaters, waistcoats, trousers and skirts; the latter being worn by both women and men. Looking at the people themselves, he could see the same light skin and aquiline features that the Arbiter possessed, only contorted with suspicion instead of interest.

With such strange surroundings and so many faces ostracizing him, Aang couldn't help feeling lonely for the briefest moment. But, as was his nature, he found comfort in the very visages that so loathed him. He saw faces ranging from the thin and gaunt to the stout and pudgy, the young and fair to the gnarled and dappled, all sprinkled with locks and beards in a rainbow of blacks, browns, blondes and riotous reds. As different as they were from him, at least they were a little different from each other.

"_Oomph_," Aang emitted. Getting lost in the mural of MacLir, he failed to notice the wall of a man that stepped right out in front of him. The stranger, garbed in an official looking uniform (that just barely managed to stretch across his corpulent frame), leaned into Aang with a stern look on his craggy features.

"Welcome to Port MacLir, wee one," the man declared with a wry smile. "Or at least ya would be if yew and your foreign friends had bothered to go through customs." Aang coughed as the rotund man exuded vile breath with each rhotic syllable. "And I thought yew Air Nomads wheyre suppohsed to be sneaky."

"Wait a minute," Aang protested. "We're with—"

"Maybe next tyme," the man interrupted with a commandeering paw on his shoulder, "you'll be a bit more—_AGHH_!" The man withdrew his throbbing hand, having been struck by a queue of icy water. Katara came rushing down the street, a furious look in her eyes and a water whip stretched out in her hands.

"Careful?" she inferred.

The man's squat face turned the same color as his sore hand as he whipped a stout bat off of his belt. "Perapps I haven't mayde maself clear!" the man bellowed, drumming the seal on his chest with his blunt instrument. "I'm the law in these parts and I say yer wee friend here is under arrest for lacking proper documentation!"

"Don't burst an artery Sergeant," Liam scoffed as the rest of the group approached the scene. "These bogtrotters are here under my supervision." Katara nearly winced at the mention of 'supervision', but continued to stand by Aang as the exchange continued.

"But he—"

"You have my assurances," Liam said, lacing his voice with warning. His caveat was reinforced by his triadic mark which glinted venomously in the sun. Glaringly, the constable lowered his club and turned to Aang. "Stay close to yer nursemaid, wee one," the Sergeant warned. Katara glared back as the ponderous constable waddled away.

"Ramhar McLeathanlód," Liam said as the rotund man slipped off into an alley. "Sergeant of the Port MacLir fuzz—I mean constabulary. Be grateful he didn't sit on you."

"I'll say," Sokka chuckled.

"I say things for a reason, Master Aang," Liam said in a cool tone, "not just to hear myself talk." Aang's spine shrunk as the Arbiter's stern gaze hovered imperiously over him, a full head above his stature. "That little jaunt of yours made the Sergeant think you were prey. Was he right?" Aang's innards became as icy as the Arbiter's stare. He couldn't tell which was making him hesitate as he tried to answer.

"No."

Aang was surprised that his voice was so firm, until he realized that it was Katara who had spoken. "Aang did nothing to invite confrontation, and he is nobody's prey."

"Then he had better quit acting like it," Liam reproached. "The eyes of Milesia will scorn and scrutinize all the steps you take," he announced, "so make them handsome." Without another word he strode past Katara and headed down the street with the group in hesitant pursuit. As they walked, Katara took silent strides, simultaneously fuming over Liam's treatment of Aang and begrudgingly acknowledging his wisdom. After a while, Katara's thoughts and eyes turned towards Aang and noticed something odd. Instead of carrying himself with his usual open-handed liveliness, he marched to a rigid cadence, carrying his curled hands with a steady swing.

"Why are you walking like that?" Katara asked.

"I'm trying to do as he said!" Aang snapped. For the briefest moment, anger flashed across his face, but faded to regret seeing the concern in Katara's eyes. He bowed his head and strode sullenly down the street with her sympathetic steps accompanying him. "I was just trying to imitate those guys," Aang said, pointing a thumb behind his back. Katara turned her head and witnessed a platoon of soldiers marching besides them, overtaking them on their way to some urgent objective. Seeming to invade the street, the glint of their shining steel armor made Katara's eyes squint. As they marched ahead, their black coats and gray trousers grew more apparent, especially the white insignias emblazoned on the tall metal tower shields they carried; pyramids enclosing two concentric circles—the symbol of the Metal Empire. "I'll bet nobody picks on them," Aang mumbled to himself. Just then, the Arbiter appeared beside him, making both Aang and Katara flinch.

"That's for a different reason," he said, keeping his eyes on the formation of hastily marching men. "Centurion!" he beckoned to the lead soldier. "What fuels your haste?!" The lead officer, bearing a large crest on his helmet, ducked out of the formation and stood at attention before the group that now paused at the side of the street. "Mister Arbiter, sir," the Centurion addressed in a formal tone. "Prefect Trelanus is announcing the new harvest taxes and, well—need I say more?"

"No you needn't," the Arbiter murmured gravely. He then did an about face, addressing his charges in an equally soldierly manner. "Forgive me, but a domestic dispute demands my attention. I shouldn't be long." Liam began to march after the Centurion when Katara took a step forward.

"Wait," she motioned. "Maybe we should come with you." Both Liam and the soldier halted, turning to hear her petition. "If we're going to be peacekeepers and ambassadors, then we'll need to understand the troubles affecting this place." Katara waited expectantly for her answer as Liam stroked his chin.

"Lord Zuko," Liam said, lifting his head from contemplation. "You shall accompany me." Zuko's eyes flashed with surprise and darted to the rest of the group as Liam turned and regarded the others. "As for the rest of you," he began, "I have an important task for each of you." Pricking their ears, Katara and Aang stood up straight to receive their assignments. "Master Aang, Miss Katara; you two go check us in to The Thistle & Harp Inn down the street. If they give you any lip," he said, extracting his silver torque from his neck, "show them this and tell them the Arbiter sent you." Katara furrowed her brow as she accepted the ring of metal and strode down the street with Aang in her company and Appa lumbering behind him. "Mister Sokka," he continued, "why don't you go and fetch us all some vittles at The Red Dragon Pub, over yonder." Upon sighting the half-timber building bearing the red sign, Sokka, with Momo perched on his shoulder, immediately detected the scrumptious aroma of spirits and roasted meats. With a grinning salute, Sokka headed straight towards the tavern and disappeared into its depths. Zuko wore a puzzled expression when the Arbiter turned to regard him. "After you, your Lordship." Hesitantly, Zuko marched after the Centurion with Liam in step beside him.

Entering The Thistle & Harp Inn, Aang and Katara became swathed in the embracing light of warm hearths and the tantalizing smells of food and ale that seemed to seep out of the very woodwork. The foyer itself was mostly empty, so no foul gazes despoiled the womb like surroundings. Katara walked up to what looked like an innkeeper and said, "Excuse me sir. We'll need some rooms for our friends and a stable for our sky bison." The innkeeper grew white as a huge furry monster eyed him through the front window. Hastily scrawling some notes in his ledger, the harrowed looking clerk then scuttled reluctantly out the door to retrieve the great beast.

"Enjoy your stay," he squawked anxiously as he disappeared out the door.

"Ugh," Katara sighed, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms in frustration. "If only we could call him a friend."

"What is it?" Aang asked.

"It's obvious what he's doing," she growled. "He's trying to get rid of us so he and Zuko can take care of business without us. He thinks we're just a couple of kids."

"Well, I guess I've given him reason to think that," Aang murmured. He leaned on his staff, having a doleful weight hanging on his shoulders.

"What?! No," Katara said with a contrite look as she leaned towards Aang. "With all the things we've done, we deserve to be treated better than—"

"WHATEVER YOU DO!" Sokka screamed, making all in the foyer flinch. "STAY AWAY FROM THE HAGGIS!" He stumbled into the room with a horror filled look in his eyes, sinking down into a leather backed chair as he clutched his lurching stomach. "I brought some stuff back for you guys," he gasped, holding a sack out in front of him as though having dragged vital intelligence from a war zone. "Anything that wasn't haggis or those ugly brown roots they kept shoving down my throat. ' _Excyuse me, could you playse pahs the Tahrtars,_ '" Sokka parroted, mimicking the native accent. "' _Wood ya lyke somar Tahrtars lahd? Wayter, does the fish come with Tahrtars?_ '" His rant coming to a close, his torso began to slump with resignation in the folds of the armchair.

"Thanks Sokka," Aang said, "but I'm not...that hungry." Accompanying a hysterical Sokka was another thing to make a dramatic entrance into Aang's spheres. As the nebulas of confusion had cleared in his mind he could remember sharply the admonitions of the steel eyed Arbiter, piercing him like the rays of the sun, recall poignantly his earlier failure to protect Katara, his moon and stars, hear wrenchingly the resurrected voice of a familiar pang in his chest; his void. Detecting his unrest with her divining eyes, Katara moved to rebalance his inner cosmos. That is, until Sokka's black hole of a mouth opened wide.

"So what was Zuko doing with Li Yum and that soldier guy?" Sokka asked.

"Taking care of business and leaving the kids at home to play," Katara growled.

"You know," Sokka said while stuffing his face with a roll, "maybe that's just what we should do." Despite the disbelieving looks of his comrades boring into his head, Sokka took his time swallowing the bread before elaborating. "I heard from the barkeeper that this place is having some sort of festival tonight. I'm thinking we should blow off old badger-head and just go."

"I'm not sure," Katara said, "Liam has a point. Maybe we should let this place get used to us before we start interacting with its people."

"Well, what better way to do that than to attend a festival?" Sokka said. "I mean, think about it, that's where people will be loosened up and free to mingle. That's where we will have the best chance of building a dialogue with this place and begin building our reputations as ambassadors. If he's not going to let us learn about this place when we're with him, then we might as well do it our own way." Katara tilted her chin and raised her brow with contemplation. Aang also cocked his head with interest.

"Come on," Sokka pressed, "everything about their culture will be spread out right in front of us. There'll be food, lights, music...dancing," he added enticingly.

"Well," Aang pondered, "we do need to learn about the native culture. That's why Zuko left with the Arbiter after all," he added with budding cheer.

"That's the spirit, Aang!" Sokka declared. "What do you say, sis?"

"Alright," Katara said, a devious grin beginning to grow on her face, "let's go. I doubt ' _Mister Badger-head_ ' will even notice that we're gone now that he and Zuko are off frolicking in the fields together." With hysterical laughs from all, Aang's spirits were restored to their former buoyancy. In the company of two good friends, Aang departed the inn and would have a night to remember.

**Toph & the Dragon**

Toph's absent friends detracted from her already short list of allies. The curiously absent palace guards, her scattered and bewildered students, even her own senses seemed to have abandoned her. The heat of the dragon's scathing flames seared her sweaty skin. Clouds of discharged dust and ash clogged her nostrils and coated her tongue. Her ears throbbed in the din of destruction. Her naked feet, her only eyes, were drowned in the in the tremors of the beast's erratic acrobatics. Her communion with the earth had failed. She was now a reluctant servant of the sheer chaos that enthroned itself in the palace halls. Toph refused to give in, fighting to a battle hymn when her weary joints seemed to be singing a lullaby. Alone, she defiantly fought what seemingly grew to be the inevitable.

With each passing second, the lithe predator drew closer and closer, scenting her growing exhaustion with its forked tongue. Upon reaching the stone barricade, the creature smashed through it with impunity, destroying with it the last of Toph's resolve. Panting in the penumbra of the approaching predator's shadow, her sweat basted body lay as limp as a corpse. Toph waited as the creature circled her, sniffing the air and pacing around her. In the quiet, she could now feel the creature's unspoken frustration tying knots in its sinewy muscles. She hardly cared. She only felt a twinge of satisfaction in denying it the thrill of the hunt. All she was concerned with now was getting the next part over with.

A wickedly calm voice echoed from across the room. Skuult's pet reared its head and parted its fang lined jaws, losing any trace of hesitation at its master's order.

"Kill her."

**Prefect Trelanus**

Liam and Zuko marched mechanically behind a squad of Imperial Legionnaires as the organic, sweeping curves of the town roads gave way to the rigid thoroughfares of the Port MacLir Forum. They stepped from a haven of cobbled black rock to an arena of smoothly paved, gleaming white stone. Marching into the square, they shrunk under the towering officious buildings, framed with sturdy looking architecture and draped in façades of shining marble. Resonating around the square was the din of a bellowing crowd, directing its anger at a man posited on the top of a platform at the head of the Forum.

The shouting throng parted before the group of soldiers, admitting them along with Liam and Zuko as it seethed with uproar. Getting closer to the stone platform, Zuko could see a tall, skeletal man flanked by ornately armored soldiers. Garbed in a solid black, long tailed, double breasted jacket, he clutched a collection of scrolls and tablets in his bony, ring laden fingers. "Yes, yes, I'm sure you're all upset!" the man shouted over the crowds. "But restitutions must be made! The Empire will not suffer this kind of behavior!"

"What is Trelanus babbling about this time?" Liam murmured aside to the Centurion.

"An attempt was made on his life not a week before you arrived," the officer reported. "He was caught in a firefight with the Black Hoods."

"I should've assumed," Liam murmured.

"A lot of good officers lost their lives that day," the soldier went on, his stalwart voice beginning to falter, "and now the Prefect is demanding righteous compensation."

"Since you have demonstrated the wherewithal to furnish a festival for yourselves," the Prefect went on, "you should have no trouble paying this quarter's taxes." Meeting only more waves of resistance, the official continued his rebuke. "I cannot simply deduct bushels of grain from the seasonal quota, it does not function so! The harvest taxes are based on percentages," he derided. "Honestly! Why does the Empire bother to spend countless Sestertii to furnish schools for you Wood Clan guttersnipes?" Zuko could see protestors reaching for vegetables and Legionnaires patting their revolvers in their holsters. Between the frenzying crowds and the orator's pompous demeanor and technical jargon, Zuko could tell that the others would appreciate sitting this out. This was the part of diplomacy they were all least looking forward to.

"If your dunderhead fisherman can't keep up with demand, then the Imperial Bureau of Taxation is not to blame!" the official shouted. "This year's taxes are set to sixty percent! No negotiation!"

"We'll see what's righteous," Liam said before hiking up the side of the platform.

"And if you—oh Mister Arbiter," the Prefect stammered upon seeing Liam ascend the stage. The tax collector shrunk a bit, seeing the Arbiter's six and a half foot stature approaching him. The throng began to calm as the Arbiter took the stand, his tattooed forehead shining brightly in the sun.

"Mister Trelanus," Liam said in a cool tone. "May I be of assistance?"

"As refreshing as it would be, collaborating with a man of good education," Prefect Trelanus said with a growing heir of pomp, "I have matters here under control."

"I can see that."

"Yes, well—"

"You realize you're only further antagonizing the Black Hoods?"

"I am performing my duties as Prefect," Trelanus said with his nose in the air, straightening the lapels of his gold-buttoned jacket. "I will not reduce taxes until proper restitutions have been made to the families of our fallen Legionnaires."

"I doubt that Sestertii will soothe their disembodied souls," Liam said, "as much as an act of honor will." Liam stood before Trelanus, placing a hand on the Prefect's shoulder and craning his head in earnestness. "These people have endured enough punishment from famines past, desperately supplying fish and goods to the Empire at cost to themselves. Let them enjoy the fruits of this year's bumper crop. That way, these gracious men would be more than willing and able to pay your restitutions next season. My friends and I can deal with the rebel problem." Trelanus' eyes darted from the hand he perceived as invading his shoulder to the gaze of the man admonishing his pride as he stiffly stood against his petitioner's demands. After a protracted pause, the Prefect looked Liam in the eye with an icy stare and a stony face.

"Sixty percent taxes," Trelanus whispered, "for sixty percent casualties. These peasants should be grateful it isn't steeper." As Trelanus pulled away he was jerked back by the Arbiter's steely hold. Despite the distance, Zuko could swear that he saw claws develop on Liam's fingers and burrow into the officials coat. In a swift, discreet motion, Trelanus was jerked aside until Liam's whiskered chin nearly pricked his ears.

"_Unless I'm mistaken_," the Arbiter whispered into Trelanus' ear, "_none of this would've happened in the first place if it wasn't for you._" Even with Zuko's acute hearing, he could only barely discern the exchange. "_Before you arrived here and started strangling these people with your purse strings, this port was bald of dissidents. Now we're crawling with them; they could be watching us right now."_

"I will not be goaded!" Trelanus growled, his breath growing uneven. The Prefect's temples strained and his nostrils flared as his skin grew moist. "The Black Hoods are an unorganized rabble," he hissed, "the manifestation of all the temper tantrums you Wood Clan heathens restrain. I do not fear them."

"But you do fear...the Imperator..."

Trelanus stood as still as a statue, his face as pale as marble and his eyes blank with horror. He nearly disappeared into the plaster white background, or at least he wished to do so. The Arbiter leaned in closely to the Prefect's petrified face, his steel gray eyes and abyss blue tattoo glinting wickedly in unison. Zuko stared at the two men, unnerved at how much it looked like the Arbiter was thrusting a dagger into the politician's back and twisting it. All was quiet. Both Zuko and the crowds strained to listen as the Arbiter continued whispering into the Prefect's ears.

"...And wisely so. I can only imagine the things he would do to you if he discovered that your overzealous tax policies had resulted in a famine."

Not a sound was heard. Not a whisper. Not until Trelanus' lips began to slowly pry apart and utter something indiscernible.

"I'm sorry?" Liam said. "What was that?"

"_Fo—forty, forty five._"

"Come again?"

"FORTY FIVE PERCENT!"

The crowd began to erupt with cheers and bellows of approval as the tax official descended the podium. "AND NOT A BUSHEL LESS!" he screamed in retreat. "You!" Trelanus squeaked, pointing a shaking digit at a smug Liam. "As the locals say: Damn you to Helheim!" The wiry windbag then retired to an opulent office building at the far side of the forum, badgered by jeering protesters as he did so. Liam, meanwhile, strode down the steps towards a stunned Zuko and began to march back down the street in his company.

They strode in silence with Zuko trying to analyze what he had just seen. He had just begun to formulate a question when the Arbiter broke into his line of thought. "This wasn't quite the way I'd hoped to introduce a head of state to Milesia, but I hope you've been somewhat prepared for the task ahead."

"Then why didn't you bring the others?" Zuko asked. "They need to be prepared for this mission too."

"Because they might not be in attendance." Zuko whipped around to face the Arbiter with an incredulous expression that demanded explanations. "I'm considering the option of sending them home on their sky bison so that we might accomplish this mission ourselves. We can cover just as much ground on the back of a sky ram; even more since it will only be the two of us."

"But why?! Aang is the Avatar. He and his friends saved our world, they saved—me! We need them on our roster—this world needs them!"

"This world needs seasoned diplomats and peacekeepers! It doesn't need epic heroes, or dashing warriors, or...dancers..."

"What?"

Liam gestured towards the end of the street. Zuko buried his face in his palm.

**Facing Death & the Soulless Eyes**

Had death come? She hadn't anticipated how noisy the road to the afterlife would be. All that Toph could hear was a gentle trickle of plaster dust followed by a crashing crescendo of falling debris. Her ears then began to throb with deafening, pain filled screeches followed by the rushed pitter patter of approaching feet. Toph's students stood triumphant, palms outstretched in the air, willing the stone beams, plaster lining and clay tiles of the palace ceiling to entrap the monster's majestic wings as though they were crumpled umbrellas.

"NO!" Skuult hissed as his pet writhed in struggle under the heap of rubble. One of Toph's students rushed to her side and helped her to her feet. Enough strength returned to her limbs for her to stand on her own, albeit a bit shakily. After boosting his master to her footing, the Dark One turned and beheld the incarcerated beast that lay before him.

And that was all he could do. He did not possess his master's keen senses. He could not feel the resignation twisting at its sinews or the fear that ran cold through its veins. He could only the see the beast's subsiding struggles; see it laying under the pile of wreckage almost as if in surrender to its impending death. He could not tell what flowed through its mind as Ho Tun raised a fractured column above its back or as Penga sharpened the point of the stone spear with quick slashes of her hand. It sat there, its lithe, feline muscles relaxed, with its gnarled horns and aquiline visage as blank as the marble surrounding it. He could not hear the creature's breathing—now shallow—but instead, the disappointed groans of its master as he looked on from the corner.

"Wait!" the Dark One shouted, staying the poised pillar with his hand.

"What do you mean wait?!" Penga shouted.

"This thing just tried to eat Sifu Toph, and kill all of us!" Ho Tun added with alarm.

"This _thing_ couldn't help it," the Dark one reproached. He turned his head to glare at the imprisoned Druid at the far side of the library, getting an equally nasty gaze in return. For some reason, some urge had overtaken him and prodded him into doing something foolish under the guise of doing something right. He clenched his outstretched fist, crumpling the stone weapon into dust over the creature's hide. With astonished looks from the other disciples, the young metal bender cautiously drew towards the imprisoned animal. With gentle waves of his hand, he began shifting debris and shrapnel off of the dragon's wings.

For several agonizing moments the creature simply laid there, indolent and indifferent to its new freedom. Then, in a sickeningly slow motion, it raised its serpentine neck and propped itself up on its wings with cautious trepidation. Its piercing head then drifted towards the Dark One, roasting his shrinking form with its blazing orange eyes. Slowly it advanced, its clawed wingtips clacking on the ground.

The Dark One stood like a splinter, unmoving yet with eyes frantically trying to discern what indecipherable thoughts coursed through the beast's body. It betrayed none as it inched closer to the terrified youngster, scenting the fear on his skin with its cavernous nostrils, feeling the pulse of his heart with its wiry whiskers, seeing the tremors of his form with its abyssal eyes. It betrayed none; no emotion, no fear, no anger, only cold interest. The Dark One shuddered with contemplations of oblivion, having seen a trace of it in two tall, void like slits of darkness; having seen nothingness in the dragon's eyes.

**Samhain Hullabaloo**

"The gods have granted us a bountiful harvest!" a withered old Druid announced as he stood above a cheering crowd. "There is only one way to perpetuate our good fortunes and ensure fertile fields for the years to come!" The crowds howled with anticipation and stamped the ground in frenzy. "...human sacrifice!"

The hooting and hollering throng parted, revealing two burly men dragging a small girl, dressed all in white and crowned with flowers. She whimpered and dragged her feet in protest as the men carried her to her fate; a large fissure in the cliff around which the horde was gathered. The crevice splashed and spluttered with rushing water, a set of jaws slavering for its offering. As the men poised the girl at the fissures lip, the Druid declared, "May the gods bless us!" The girl was then thrust into the cleft and carried down its twisting shaft at blinding speeds, her screams of terror being heard along the way. After rushing through a dizzying gauntlet of twists and turns, she was hurled out of the cliff face; tossed like a piece of jetsam into the water below.

For a moment, all was silent. Not a sound was heard but the dull roar of the waves bellow. Then, a head emerged at the surface of the foaming water. "Come on in!" the girl squealed with delight, "The water's fine!"

"I, Druid Críon" the old Shaman announced merrily, raising his oaken staff in the air, "officially declare this year's harvest festival initiated. Let the celebrations begin!" The crowd let loose loud cheers of jubilation as its occupants rushed to save a place on Port MacLir's cliff-side water slide.

The town below became alight with many colored lanterns and the music of countless fiddles, flutes, accordions, mandolins, Uilleann pipes and Bodhrán drums. That night, Port MacLir became a beacon of joy and light under the dark skies of Midland. The riotous rhythms, the upbeat cadence, the flowing beat, it all ran like a river through Aang's heart and coursed through his limbs as he danced to the music of the festival. Dancing just as merrily were troops of mummers, all littering the streets and writhing with the beat of the music. Each dancer cavorted in a different covering with some flouncing in the furs of wolverine-bears, others prancing in the pelts of saber-toothed-elk-tigers, some sashaying in salmon scales, and all wearing odd masks or skulls resembling those of animals.

Aang was surrounded by a group of these merrymakers now, enveloped in a fast paced cadence of clops, clacks, cracks and shuffles. Hoping to impress them, Aang embarked on the full list of forms he knew, from the Phoenix-Flight to the Camelephant strut. Each slide, each wave, each thrust and stamp was mirrored perfectly by his dancing companions. He saw no fatigue in their limbs as they mirrored his movements, not a bead of sweat down their faces, not a twitch in their limbs; only delight.

"Well at least nobody's bothering them," Zuko said as he shuffled past crowds of merrymakers with Liam on his tail.

"Just you wait," Liam said as he brushed past ornately adorned musicians. "All the same, we should keep an eye on them just to make sure." Spotting an empty street corner, Zuko and Liam perched themselves next to a lamppost as they kept watch on their charges.

"So where were we?" Zuko said as he leaned his back against the light fixture. "You were getting ready to boot them off the mission. Why? You've only known us for a few days, and you already claim to know what we're capable of?"

"I know of your group's exploits," Liam began, "and while your achievements are great, we face different circumstances now. We are not fighting a belligerent nation, but trying to reconcile a sovereign one with a disgraced people; trying to garner some dignity for a culture that feels like it doesn't exist anymore."

"It seems to exist to me," Zuko said, observing the festivities surrounding him.

"Only barely," Liam said with a downcast tone. "In fact, this is one of the few times I've seen the Milesians happy in recent years. Things used to be calmer before bastards like Trelanus started _complicating_ matters, to put it politely."

"It can be that way again," Zuko said. "We've done so much recently. I know they don't operate as formally as you're used to, but give them a chance and their experience will show."

"But Milesia won't be so willing to give them that chance," Liam said. "The Clans have been pushed into the muck for so long they'll exploit any weakness, make any excuse to drag someone down with them for company. Being foreign and possessing a more casual demeanor, your friends will not be in a good position here."

"So what makes the difference with me? I'm foreign."

"There's potential for you here, Lord Zuko, despite that fact. You seem to know what it's like to make a name for yourself. That scar on your face isn't the only thing that shows your experience."

"You're reading my mind, aren't you?" Zuko said, his features crumpling with resentment.

"I'm not yet that proficient at metal bending. Even if I were at the moment, I wouldn't dare to invade your privacy in such a way."

"You might as well have."

"Forgive me your Lordship," Liam said, regret garbing his solemn voice. They both bowed their heads and stood in silence as the festival continued all around them. "Consider what I have said. I know your friends are strong, and mean well, but their inexperience is a liability that neither of us can afford."

Zuko raised his head and then looked with shame at his friends, dancing blissfully before his eyes, unaware of the decision brewing in his mind and the pain that the deliberation caused him. Aang, in particular, was quite absorbed in his dance with his newfound mummer friends. He turned his grinning head towards Sokka and Katara, both grinning back as they tried in vain to match the rapid rhythm of the mummers' feet. Aang could scarcely remember times like this, times when the world in its infinite complexities boiled down to a moment of joy and bliss.

But as his eyes returned to the gala, Aang was astonished to find that the mummers had disappeared. They were now replaced with wiggling heaps of wood-colored ooze, each of them slowly morphing into a different image. Before long the squirming blobs coalesced into human like forms, slowly whittling themselves into more detail.

The dancers were gone, and in their place stood Air Nomads. Each pelt was an orange robe, each headdress was a shining blue arrow tattooed to a bald head, each mask a face he hadn't seen for a hundred years. Aang jolted as the newly formed Air Nomads whipped themselves into the air before landing on the ground to commence a fluid, flowing, swaying dance in a circle around him. It was a perfect reenactment, a beautiful homage; a tribute.

The dance continued for what seemed in his mind to be hours before it ended with the Nomads smiling and giving deep bows before dissolving into ashen gray dust and floating on the winds. His senses seemed numbed for a short while after that. He barely sensed the audience that gathered to applaud the dancers' performances. He could barely feel the nostalgic tear that ran down his cheek as he whispered a final goodbye to his people amongst the loud clamor of the spectators. Before he could react, a wooden tendril seized him by the waist and dragged him to the side of the street towards an awaiting Arbiter.

"We need to get out of here," he said with an urgent tone.

"What's the matter?" Sokka said with a smug grin as he walked over. "We're just gaining our bearings."

"Tell me Mister Sokka, were they in your sights? —don't look you bollix!" Before Liam could stay the pivot of Sokka's inquisitive head, Sergeant Ramhar McLeathanlód and a group of burly looking constables came marching over from the other side of the street. "Oh, fantastic!" Liam groaned.

"That was quite a bit of dancin' there, wee one," the rotund constable said. "I'm sure you impress all the boys at the local cotillions." Aang and Katara simply folded their arms and ignored the fat man and his companions as they guffawed with glee. Sokka's bared teeth gleamed as white as his boomerang, which he would have hurled with fervor had Zuko not held back his throwing arm.

"And you, Sergeant," Liam rejoined, "must have really wooed MacLir's women when you got your fat arse kicked in last month's hurling tournament." Just noticing the Arbiter's presence, the fat man gritted his well exercised jaw. "They tell me that you whined like a wounded panther-hound, so I suppose you must have spoken."

"Where do ya get off speakin' that way to law enforcement, ' _Mister Arbiter_ '?" the Sergeant spat.

"The same place you pluck up the nerve to badger my guests," Liam retorted. "Honestly! If dancing was a crime then I'd arrest every roll of fat on your body for each time you'd strut down the square." Unabashed laughs erupted all around the incensed officer. Even Sokka, fuming as he was, couldn't stifle a chuckle.

"We'll see who's laughin'," the Sergeant murmured. The corpulent officer then turned his back on the group of irate foreigners and marched down the street with his cadre of constables in tow.

"What was that about?" Sokka queried, scratching his head.

"BOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!"

Following the thunderous blast, rattling shockwave and fiery rain of wood splinters, were the cries of panicked partygoers as they scrambled away from the scene of the explosion. Rushing into the fray was Liam who ran past the terrified townspeople, heading straight for the plume of smoke that towered above the black streets. Approaching the scene, he could see a giant crater in the river of dark rock, smoking, fuming, and burning with remnants of charred wood and linen. Dashing to and fro were Legionnaires, carrying buckets of water in an attempt to wean hungry newborn fires. Kneeling at the craters edge was Prefect Trelanus, a badly burned soldier in his arms.

"Corbulo!" Trelanus pleaded. "Centurion Corbulo! What is your status?!"

"W—worthy," the wounded soldier moaned. Coughing up blood on his shattered armor and gasping for breath, he managed to only wheeze his dying words. "I f—feel worthy of the Empire at last... Axios!" As the breath of Centurion Corbulo faded, his eyelids were shut by Trelanus' shaking fingers. The Prefect remained fixed upon the pavement, his eyes wide with shock, his wiry body trembling, his lips quivering, and his tongue writhing for the freedom to speak what he truly desired. Fear suspended his right.

"See what good this has done, Arbiter?!" he wailed. "See how useless it is to negotiate with these heathens! These barbarians...these savages!" Ignoring the distraught Steel Citizen as he fell to pieces like porcelain, Liam searched for an officer that hadn't lost his head.

"What happened?!" Liam shouted at a passing soldier.

"Someone lined the Prefect's carriage with blasting jelly," one frightened officer bleated. "It went off just as the Prefect was entering it. He'd be dead if it wasn't for Corbulo, sir."

"We'll all be dead!" Trelanus howled, his face melting into putty. "Those hooded hydras will make corpses of us all!"

Just then, Aang, Katara, Sokka and Zuko came running up to the scene of destruction.

"Let us help," Aang said. "We can put out the—"

"Lord Zuko," Liam said, cutting them off. "See to it that your friends get to the inn and stay there."

"But we—"

"GO!"

Liam then whipped around and hurried off to join the frantic Legionnaires as they secured the area. Before any of them could protest further, Zuko beckoned them to follow as he made for The Thistle & Harp. Leaving the bedlam behind, the four friends entered the shelter of the inn, finding a warm fire and an agitated Momo awaiting them.

"Jeez, what's that guy's problem?" Sokka said. "We could have helped."

"He's trying to be a good leader, that's his problem," Zuko rejoined. "Believe it or not, he has this team's best interests in mind."

"Well, he's not doing us any favors by sheltering us," Katara said. "We'll have to face the good, bad and ugly of this place if we're going to have any success on this mission." Zuko remained silent, leaning against the fireplace and gazing remorsefully into the flames.

"Let's all get some sleep," he murmured.

Now alone, the group settled in for the night, hoping the trauma of the day would dissolve by morning. Zuko peeled off his tunic and loosened his ponytail before splaying himself in front of the fire. Katara and Aang nestled themselves in a woolen blanket on a large, leatherback sofa while Sokka unpacked his mummy bag and laid it under the window.

As Katara nuzzled up next to Aang, she could sense his further unrest. "Aang," Katara whispered. "Are you still upset about what Liam said earlier today?"

"It's not what he said, it's what I've done," Aang said. "I haven't been acting like a man lately, especially not towards you."

"If this about not being there for me; don't worry. I can take care of myself."

"But can I take care of _myself_. It's up to me to impress everyone here when they've already made up their minds to hate me. And then a bomb goes off in the street and what am I doing? I'm busy smelling the roses. I'm acting like a...a..." A tear rushed down his cheek before he could say, without meaning to, "an Air Nomad."

"There's no shame in that," Katara said, wiping away the tear with her gentle finger. "He may have been right about building a reputation with these people, but he was wrong about one thing. You are who you are because of what you've done and because of the choices you make...personally, I'm glad you chose me." Aang's lips broke into a loving smile as Katara rested her head on his shoulder and let the lullaby of his heart sing her to sleep.

"I'm glad you chose me too," Aang whispered, planting a kiss on Katara's head before joining her in slumber. Zuko had less success in conking out. For minutes, and then hours he kept tossing and turning on the floor before the fireplace, his mind burning with thoughts of his exchange with the Arbiter, with regret of the betrayal budding in his mind. Suddenly, it began to flare with a new thought. It engulfed his mind as with a sudden remembrance: _Who is the Imperator_?

His mind and body remained still, however, when he heard footsteps outside the door. Slow and soft, they began invading the room even before the door slowly creaked open. Zuko lay as still as a stone, keeping his eyes fixed on the portal. There was no sound except for Momo's quiet hiss as the Lemur-bat crawled behind Zuko's tensed body for protection. As the footsteps began to resonate across the room, Zuko expected to see their owner. There was only air.

His heart beat rapidly. His naked torso exuded sweat. His greasy fingers began reaching for his Dao swords. His ears were pricked, hoping that what he heard was his imagination. His eyes were wide open, hoping to never see the origin of the sounds. His breath was still. His hair stood on end. His mind was blank.

"_Oh, you're still up._"

Zuko leapt to his feet, drawing his swords, baring his teeth, scowling in anger and tensing for the strike.

"_Relax, it's me,_" the voice whispered again. Before his eyes, Zuko saw a cloud of energy appear. It began to thicken and coalesce into the shape of a man, finally revealing the form of the Arbiter. "Metal benders can control light, remember?"

"Ugh," Zuko sighed in relief. He sheathed his Dao swords and sat cross-legged in front of the faint remains of the fire.

"Forgive me if I startled you, your Lordship," Liam said. "I didn't want to wake the others." Liam crossed the room and settled himself in a wingback chair. "It was the Black Hoods again."

"Are these the rebels we're looking for?"

"No, the Black Hoods are indignant Clansmen, not disgruntled Imperials, but they could have relations. They won't be a problem if we're careful, though. But if they find out who we are and what we're trying to do here, our job will be much more difficult. The Black Hoods would see Helheim ablaze before a peace with the Imperials." He then folded his hands across his middle and pitched back in his chair. "You should get some rest. We have a long journey ahead of us."

"Define we," Zuko asked expectantly.

"That'll be decided in the morning. For now—"

"For now, you can tell me who this Imperator is."

"I have only—_yaaaaawww_—the faintest idea," Liam yawned as he settled himself in his seat. "I always thought of it as some metaphor for Imperial rule. A man as tightly wound as Trelanus would naturally avoid inspections like they were the Black Blight. Why do you ask?"

"I ask because I've never known red tape to arouse such fear...and that's saying a lot, being the leader of the Fire Nation."

"Well, just the fact that it does makes me grateful, and I've never been inclined...to look a gift dragon-steed...in the beak." Before Zuko could press on, Liam leaned back in his chair and closed his eyelids, eventually reciting a sonnet of snores. Unsatisfied, yet too tired to write in his journal, Zuko stretched out on the floor. As seemed to be his new habit, he stared into the dimly glowing coals of the fireplace until he begrudgingly fell asleep.

**On Leather Wings**

The Dark One was imprisoned by the Dragon's fiery stare. The two orbs of glowing flame pierced his soul when their owner showed none.

"So, what's...what's your name?" he asked. Only silence replied. "Fafnir is it? That's a pretty name for a pretty dragon." He searched through his mind for anything he could say, anything he could do to coax a reaction out of the scaly creature. He would have settled for a bellow of fury and another rampage of destruction, anything besides the galling silence and grating stare. In the void of movement, his mind was forced to race between images of his own gruesome death, from being burned to a charred husk or squashed into a bloody smear...or perhaps only being ignored. But the decision rested with a creature whose intentions were unintelligible to the point of eliciting fury in the young earth bender. "Do something!" he almost whispered.

The beast obliged. Its head dipped down to his level and its fangs parted wide. Imagining a searing torrent of fire, The Dark One was instead engulfed in a deluge of saliva as a wriggling pink tongue lifted him off the ground. Hopping back to the floor, The Dark One smiled in surprise (no small feat) and began stroking the creature's feathery beard. The gigantic beast's eyes closed with bliss as she began to purr like a housecat. The two other disciples, joined by their teacher, heaved a collective sigh of relief. With respite beginning to restore some of her vitality, Toph stood up straight and began to dust herself off until she heard an indignant screech issue from the corner of the room. "What's wrong with you, you stupid wyrm?!" Skuult hissed, still trapped under a pillar of rock. "Kill them!" Fafnir's orange eyes blazed with annoyance as she emitted a stream of hostile, guttural growls in the old Druid's direction. The man's expressions grew anxious as his turncoat pet eyed him hungrily. "Thanks for reminding me scruffy!" Toph said with restored spunk. She encased the Druid in a cocoon of plaster and sent him rolling towards her across the floor. Toph then raised her leg and aimed it towards the lower half of the plaster chrysalis. From the cry of agony and litany of curses, Toph could tell that she had hit her mark. "We've got words with you," she said, leaning on her perched knee.

"Not to sound nonchalant," The Dark One said, "but we don't want any part in your war against this _Imperator_. Free Ba-Sing-Se and we'll reconsider feeding you to your pet." Skuult's eyes darted the hungry dragon, now looming over him. Without flinch, his eyes then calmly confronted his captor's.

"Do that and your kin will be enslaved to the Blight forever," he said. "And you are too late to stop them by any other means; I have already sounded the call. My new soldiers are marching west towards my homeland as we speak. They will breach your city's outer wall before the hour is over, and with the Blight spurring them, they will cross the sea in a matter of days."

"That's not going to happen," Toph growled through gritted teeth. "Not if there's anything I can do about it."

"Oh it will happen," Skuult foretold, a complacent grin beginning to spread across his face. "And it will be in your comrades' best interests to see to it that it does." He spoke with an emerging tone of self-satisfied staidness that caused Toph's stomach to churn. "And why would I do that?" Toph questioned with a snarl. She pressed the old man's chrysalis even tighter under her foot; deriving solace from her prisoner's quickening heartbeat. "Because..._urgh_...the only known cure for the Black Blight is derived from a plant that grows in my homeland," the crooked old Druid wheezed. "If you want to release your friends then you will have to let them finish their work." Toph ceased quashing her captive as the gears in her bowed head began to grind with frustration. Seeing the consternation in her face, Skuult's smug grin returned and taunted the earth bender's blind eyes. After several agonizing moments, Toph stood up, jacked the imprisoned Skuult into the air and marched towards her students with the wriggling cocoon slumped over her shoulder. Confused and sore from Toph's punishment, the old man began to grunt and heave with discomfort as his cocooned body swayed to and fro across her strong, broad shoulders. "Ho Tun, I need you to go to the Northern Air Temple and then to the Earthen Fire refinery," she ordered. "And Penga, once you've rounded up some of those eggheads from Ba-Sing-Se University, go to the Ruins of Taku. Tell them all to meet us at Pohuai Stronghold. We're going to have ourselves a little reunion." With a pillar of rock, Toph boosted herself on top of the Dragon's back and urged The Dark One to do the same. "I'm not going to give in to this old weasel without a fight!" she declared with her fist in the air. "We're going to stop them before they reach the sea, and we're going to find a cure, no matter what this crotchety old loony says."

"You have a candle's chance in Helheim, runt," Skuult snubbed. "If you think you're—hrrmf" Toph gagged the squawking old geezer with some plaster and nestled herself between the creature's wings. "Alright droopy," she said, addressing her mounted student, "you fly us there." The Dark One patted Fafnir on her neck and urged the reptilian creature to crawl out onto the veranda outside the library. "And another thing," she called down to her departing disciples. "Find out where Aang is. I could really use the Avatar right about now."

"But there's still no sign of him," Ho Tun replied glumly. "Ugh," Toph groaned. "Keep looking for him. Come on," she said to her mounted student, "let's go. With another pat on her haunches, Fafnir took to the air and carried her passengers over the walled capital of the Earth Kingdom on her leathery wings. Toph's stomach lurched with vertigo at each flap of the dragon's webbed arms. After her ordeal, she could only barely tolerate being separated from the earth. Feeling the bright morning sun on her skin and the chilled wind on her face, Toph could also smell something familiar as they flew over the city. "You smell it too?" The Dark One shouted over the wind. "It's smoke, coming from the city's outer ring." As they flew towards the edge of Ba-Sing-Se, a panorama of destruction greeted them. Whereas the inner, more affluent rings of the city were relatively pristine, the outskirts were charred and torn. Hanging black against the sun, many plumes of smoke wove their way into the air above a forest of fire and ruin. The blackened remains of slums, ghettoes and streets were further darkened by these sun blotting pillars of ash. "You're lucky you don't have to see this," The Dark One said. Below them, Toph could hear the rumble of moving earth, as if a tidal wave had erupted from the ground. The Dark One could see multitudes of bodies; young, old, strong, weak, healthy, sick, rich, poor, all gliding on waves of soil and rock with the power of earth bending. They moved seemingly without will in their bedraggled, outstretched limbs, yet they went with a singleness of mind that could only be seen in an ant hill. It was a graveyard where the corpses walked.

From below, updrafts of warm air came to greet them, supplied by the many greedy fires resident in the ruin below. Taking advantage of the rising thermals, Fafnir circled around the inky black clouds, soaring ever higher into the sky before she broke off and glided west; trailing after the possessed earth benders. "If we don't stop them," The Dark One began, "they'll plow through Pohuai Stronghold and cross the sea. They'll arrive at wherever this monster calls home," he said pointing a thumb at Skuult, "and probably die fighting in his war. I sure hope you have a plan." "I do," Toph said. "I just hope it works." As Fafnir's wings steadied and the wind calmed, Toph's weariness steadily returned. She leaned against her student's back and slowly drifted off to sleep. "Aang," she murmured. "Where are you when I need you?"

**Return of the King**

"SHHREEEIIIKK!"

Aang and Zuko awoke with a start, leaping onto the ground and poising for action. "What was that?!" Aang cried. Sokka, Katara and Momo leapt to their feet as well, but Liam only seemed to sluggishly rise from his slumber.

"That—_yaaaaahhhhww_—would be the cry of the banshee-rooster," he yawned. "Either it's time to wake up or somebody's about to die. I was beginning to hope that it would be the latter." Transforming his arms into long vines, he stretched his night cramps out towards the ceiling. "We should get ready to go. We've got a long journey ahead of us," he said with a glance in Zuko's direction. The young Fire Lord bowed his head in shame. He knew that this was the morning that they would all know. They all packed their things and made their way out of the inn, passing through a parlor that was empty but for a lone stranger, garbed in a black cloak and puffing on a pipe. As they headed out the door a wall of white fluff greeted them.

"Hey Appa, what's going on?" Aang said. "What are you—?"

As the sky bison shuffled out of his view, Aang could see the street before him awash with chaos, filled with scuffling bodies and the clouds of dust they stirred. In front of the inn, they could see a formation of Legionnaires forming a wall of shields. Attempting to scale the barricade of soldiers was a mob of angrily shouting Wood Clansmen, baring their teeth and their rage. Most of them were young men, their bodies tensed with pent up rage and frustration that panged for release. Above the noise of the mob, Zuko could hear the clangs and bangs of shutters, windows and doors emanating from the surrounding town. The residents of MacLir were bracing themselves for the storm to come.

"What's the meaning of all this?!" Liam shouted.

"Allow me to explain!" a deep voice issued out from the crowd. The throng parted (really) wide to admit Sergeant Ramhar McLeathanlód. The constable strutted with a predatory self-confidence, his helmet and sword glittering with malice. "Yew and yer friends are under arrest, and with a warrant this tyme!"

"A warrant?" Liam queried. "Under who's authority?"

"It was issued by the order of our estimable Prefect," the smug Sergeant replied. "Ya see, me an' the Prefect 'ave been puttin' our Imperial funded educations to work. It seems the Clans and Imperials can work together quite well ahfter all," he added with a chuckle. "We find it to be more than just a koinkydink that yer lot showed up just when the assassinations were rampin' up."

"That's absurd!" Liam rebuked. "We had no hand and no motive in the assassinations. My guests have no quarrel with the Empire or the Clans."

"Oh really?" the Sergeant said. "Think about it lads!" the Sergeant announced as he turned to address the crowd. "He may not look it, but their leader is an Air Nomad, and we all know of their avaricious ways!" The mob began to reform with murmurs of suspicion and agreement, rising into a rumbling crescendo. "Their kind 'ave taken advantage of our misfortunes in the past! They bled us dry for food when taxes where high 'cause they knew we'd 'ave no choice! If ya ask me, I think seein' our Prefect lower the taxes, seein' his edge tayken away, would set this little sea rat off somethin' fierce. Might 'ave mayde him do somethin'...irrational."

"This is ludicrous!" Liam burst in outrage. "This is inane! This is unfounded!"

"This is Milesia!" the Sergeant shouted. "And this'd be an arrest!"

The mob continued to draw near, their anger filled bellows growing louder and more threatening. Appa growled and stroked the ground before him while Momo arched his back and hissed. Liam, Zuko and Sokka all tensed, keeping their hands near their weapons while Katara's fingers hovered near her canteen. Aang held his staff close to his body, until he realized something. "It's time I started acting like a man." He stood firm against the wall of seething hatred and widened his stance.

"Hear me people of Milesia," Aang announced. "I am the Avatar, a humble monk, and these are my friends. We bear no ill will towards you."

"Stuff it, wee one!" the Sergeant barked. The lumbering constable now headed the pack of snarling Clansmen, carrying his sword as it shined with malice. "We'll 'ave none o yer lies."

Aang paused, but continued to hold his ground. "If you're all convinced that we had a hand in the attempted assassination of your Prefect," he said, slowing his words to conserve his fear soaked breath, "then I'll submit myself to your investigation." Aang held out his upturned hands, waiting for a response from crowd, now murmuring with misgivings and cynicism. "Take me in, but let my friends proceed with their errand of peace. As long as I'm in your custody, you'll see no trouble from them."

Some in the crowd were silent and unsure, looking to each other for counsel on their enemies' actions. Others booed with disbelief, but clamored for his arrest nonetheless. One man, one of McLeathanlód's constables, stepped forward with a pair of cuffs to accompany his pair of staid eyes.

"That's right Seamus," his companions urged. "Bring him to justice!" As the constable approached with fetters in hand, a Legionnaire broke formation bearing manacles for the air bender's feet.

"Don't do this Aang," Katara protested, grabbing his shoulder. Zuko and Sokka reflected the sentiment in their faces as Aang became bound in his restraints. "We need you."

"I'm doing this _for_ you," Aang said with a resolute glance. "And besides, I have faith in you all," he added with a loving final look at his companions. "You can take care of yourselves. Hopefully I won't be detained for so long this time."

"You can do more than hope, lad." Aang looked down to see that it was the constable who had spoken. "The terrorists I've seen in recent years wouldn't have turned themselves in with so strait a face as yours," he said as he linked the cuffs. "Your gesture won't mean much here, but if I can make a difference, then I'll do my best to see to it you get a fair trial." Aang's face formed an appreciative smile as the constable stood and clasped Aang on the shoulder. "This is awful big of ya, more than I've—AGHHH!"

Abruptly shattering this dialogue was the piercing whistle of an arrow, appearing out of the crook of Aang's arm to lodge itself into the constable's hip with the sound of meat being butchered. After a fleeting silence, the enraged voice of the Sergeant rung out through the street.

"Those bastards just shot at us!" the Sergeant cried. "Don't let 'em get away!" The mob burst forth over the line of Legionnaires like water pouring over a dam, nearly trampling the wounded constable underfoot. Zuko set a tier of flame between them while Katara showered them in slush.

"Bastards!" the constable bellowed. The Sergeant pushed aside a Legionnaire and leapt in front of Aang. The young monk tried to escape with a blast of wind before he remembered his self-imposed handicaps. Before the others could react, the Sergeant swung his sword over his head, whipping it down on the surprised air bender with blinding fury. "Aang!"

He thought Katara's panic stricken voice would be the last thing he would hear as the sword flashed before his eyes...along with something else. Prying open his eyelids, he saw the blade of the sword hovering before his face, seized in the grip of a shining blue hand. The Sergeant stood in amazement, still clutching his weapon as it was rested from his grip by a giant man standing behind Aang. The statuesque stranger glowed with a blue light, his aura humming with power as he willed the Sergeant's sword to melt into slag in his very hands. Before the Sergeant could flee in terror, he was seized by the collar and flung twenty feet across the road into a fountain, engulfing it in a thunderous splash and an obscene tidal wave. The rest of the mob shook with fear and parted as the man slowly advanced on them, the ground shaking with his every step.

The towering stranger raised his outstretched hand, and with a quick wave of it, sent bolts of lightning hurtling down from the clouds to crash over every rooftop in the street, sending a gut wrenching shockwave rocketing through the ground.

"_By your King's command," he declared, his voice a haunting echo, "_FLEE!_"_

The horrified rioters all scrambled for their lives in a mad rush to escape the ghostly giant. As the street emptied, the towering man turned to regard Aang and his company who now stood in shocked silence. He revealed, along with his glowing blue eyes, a brow, radiant with a shining blue sigil; a triadic knot. Above it rested a golden circlet, fastened upon a mane of kingly brown hair. All else below it, from the man's giant like build to his royal cloak, tabard and chain-mail armor bespoke of a King.

"_It is a shame,_" the man said, his sonorous voice growing deep and forlorn. "_...It is a shame that men can only seem to unite against an alien foe. It is a shame that you all had the misfortune to be the aliens._"

"Are you the Imperator?" Zuko asked, his body becoming rigid with hesitation.

"_No,_" the man responded, showing no anger. "_I am Draco Arcturon; King of Midland—once and ever since._"

"You're the man Archmage Emrys spoke of!" Katara declared in awe. "You're the one who united this world."

"_Indeed. With you here, noble champions of the east, these lands may yet again become reunited. I come before you all to grant you my blessing in your quest._"

"Thank you sir," Aang said with graciousness, folding his hands as he bowed.

"_I also come to vouchsafe a warning._" Aang rose from his salute, looking into the King's glowing eyes with concern. "_The Arbiter's anger released me from my incarceration for but a short time,_" the King said with a foreboding tone. "_I have uncovered a vital new insight in my imprisonment. The Imperator is—AGGHH!_"

Everyone flinched as the man doubled over in pain and cried out in agony as though an unseen dagger was piercing his flesh. As Aang rushed to his side to aide him, the man's radiant aura began to fade and his form began to shrink. Like mist, the apparition of the King was drawn into the sky by an unseen void to disappear in a flash of blinding light. Crouched over the spot where the King had once stood was Liam, heaving and coughing with exhaustion.

"What...ugh... what happened?" he gasped

"Liam!" Katara exclaimed. Both she and Aang rushed to his side as Sokka and Zuko looked on with concern.

"Take it easy," Aang said with urgency, trying to ease the Arbiter onto his back. "You went into some sort of Avatar—or, Arbiter state. You were channeling your ancestor, the King of Midland. He said—"

"Draco—Draco Arcturon!" Liam gasped. "He was here?! What did he say?!"

"He said something about the Imperator," Zuko replied, "right before your connection with him was severed." Liam and Zuko were the only ones that didn't look confused, and somewhat disturbed at the mention of the name. Liam looked troublingly at Zuko before attempting to prop himself up on his feet. As he regained his footing he staggered over towards Aapa and rubbed his face in fatigue. As his hand peeled away, it revealed features that seemed, stunningly, more haggard than before. The lines of his face appeared starker and his skin pale—almost ashen.

"Are you alright?" Katara asked. "If you need, I can heal—"

"No! N—no, no thank you Miss Katara. I'll manage." He rubbed his tattooed brow once more, and in almost an instant the vitality of his feature's returned. "What I don't understand is...why has he approached me now, after all the years I besought him?"

"He said it was your anger that brought him," Aang said. "That's similar to the way I sometimes enter the Avatar state and channel my past lives. In a time of great personal distress or danger, it can act as a defense. What was it that made you so angry?" he asked in earnest. Liam stood silently, his gaze averted, his head hung. Slowly, he met their eyes.

"I have a confession to make."

They all looked at him with curiosity; all except for Zuko, who knew what approached. "I had considered completing this mission with only Lord Zuko by my side," Liam said. "I had considered leaving you all behind." Aang, Katara and Sokka stood in silence, their faces stretched with surprise. "I didn't believe that you were prepared to face a challenge like this, that only the stoic and levelheaded could bring peace to my world. Now, I am ashamed to say, my judgments were both premature and biased." The Arbiter's face was wrought with reluctance, his words weighted with contrition. "What angered me was my own hypocrisy. What I really wanted was to keep you from seeing my homeland like this. I wanted to keep you from seeing the disgrace of my people; from both the Metal Empire and Wood Clans."

They looked at each other, unsure of what to say. "I was actually happy that you defied my orders last night. I was glad to see that something still remained of the days when things weren't so turbulent here." They listened intently, growing ever more surprised as he spoke. "I was also...very surprised and...humbled, seeing what you did today Master—er—_Mister_ Aang. I saw great bravery and solidarity in you all; enough to make me think twice about judging you all so quickly ever again." He then brought his feet together, curled his palm over his other fist and gave a deep bow. "Will you all accept my humblest apologies as well as my services as a guide to these lands?"

"It would be an honor," Aang began, issuing a bow of his own, "to have you as our guide." Rising from his salute, Liam found grateful smiles awaiting him. "We know what you're going through," Aang said. "For the past hundred years, our world has been through a war in which all sides lost a little dignity. We gave everything we had to end that war and to repair the damage. We've learned a lot from what we've done, and we'll do our best to show it," Aang affirmed. "We'll do whatever we can to help both our worlds." Aang then walked over to Appa's side, grabbed his reins and offered them to Liam. "You lead the way."

Liam looked as taken aback as they had been before. For a few moments he simply stared at the young air bending monk. Slowly, his remorseful expressions turned to those of gratitude, before accepting the reins and nodding his head in appreciation. His eagle like gaze returned, however, when he spied something on the ground. Bending over, he extracted the broken, bloodied shaft of a black arrow, fletched in eagle feathers of the same dark color.

"Black Hoods," he said with a grave voice. Zuko reflected Liam's troubled face.

"We'll explain on the way," the Fire Lord said to his compatriots.

They all climbed aboard Appa, and with another ' _yip-yip_ ', ascended into the azure sky and sailed over the verdant waves of Milesia. She would reveal many things; good, bad, ugly, ancient, wild, beautiful, and dangerous.

Watching the sky bison rise into the clouds above was Sergeant McLeathanlód, sopping wet and hiding behind a stack of crates in a secluded alleyway. He tiptoed down the street, hoping to avoid drawing any attention, but failing miserably as his waterlogged boots sloshed and squished. Just then, a shady figure materialized out of the shadows, nearly causing his weak heart to pause. Falling on his posterior, the Sergeant inched backward as the shadowy form of a man stepped forward, puffing on a smoking pipe.

"The Black Hoods are very disappointed in you, amigo," the figure whispered with a serpentine accent. "You have some explaining to do."

"I—I tried, Mister Jingo sir," the Sergeant stuttered. "I tried to get rid of the foreigners and pin the assassination on 'em like you said, but the Arbiter watched 'em like a panther-hound stalks a bahby."

"We are tired of your excuses. You had plenty of chances to shoo away the interlopers...but even with our help, you are helpless." The Sergeant's skin became moist with both water and sweat as the shadow stepped towards him. His boots followed a steady beat of solitary, sepulchral clops, until one went flying into the Sergeant's gut. Doubling over, the porcine constable let out a squeal of pain as the shadow propped his foot atop his back. "Besides that, I remember something that you said," the hooded man breathed, resting on his bolstered knee. "...Something that truly aggravated me. The Empire and the Clans...working together?" The Sergeant grunted under the weight of the shadow, nearly cutting his tongue with his pain and dirt filled jaw. "Do you forget so soon how they have, for so long, disgraced and plundered our people, pushed our faces into the filth as I do to you now?"

"I meant only—_uggh_," the Sergeant began as he begged for the slightest breath. "—I meant only to—cover our tracks, like you ordered."

"That reminds me," the hooded man said. "Speaking of tracks, I see the Arbiter has returned from his hermitage in Cordéiba. Where is he off to on that giant sky ram of his?" The shadow dismounted the poor Sergeant who hacked and spluttered froth all below him.

"They're—_cough, cough_—headed northwest," the Sergeant gagged.

"To the Tuath Comhairle, no doubt." A long pause accompanied the shady man's jaunt down the alleyway before he turned and snapped his fingers. Two other hooded men emerged from the shadows and surrounded the profusely sweating Sergeant. "I am afraid I must leave you now, amigo. I have an appointment to keep in New Caerleon." The men produced two longbows, notching them with eagle feather arrows. "While the Black Hoods are grateful for your aid in our fight against the Imperator," Jingo began as the two men took aim, "your initiation has been rejected." He snapped his fingers a final time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Avatar: Legend of the Arbiter**

**Book 1: Wood ~ Chapter 4: The Wooden Road**

**author's note**

-For reasons that will become more apparent as the story progresses, I have chosen to rename the figure "Draco Arcturon" as "Lord Camulos"-

**A Gift of Courage**

Toph stood on the veranda of Pohuai Stronghold's pagoda tower, basking in the light of the early morning sun and letting the cool breezes beat against her face. She would have hoped for the winds to carry an inviting scent to her nose, better news to her ears and resolve to her heart, but all that arrived was the dread of her new labor.

"Sir!" a sentry shouted from the crenelations. "The Mechanist has arrived! His airship approaches from the north!" As the sentry's shouts subsided, the steady hum of an engine gradually began to grace her ears. She drummed her fingers on the veranda railing with an anxious beat, impatiently waiting for the distant airship's dull roar to crescendo into the hysterical symphony of clanks and torques that she had grown accustomed to hearing from machines.

"It will be alright," the Dark One reassured her as he ventured onto the balcony. "I'm sure the others will arrive soon. The Mechanist is already here and it's only been—"

"Almost a week," Toph spoke through gritted teeth.

"I'm as anxious as you," the Dark One ventured, "but we must be strong—and patient. The only thing we can't bend is time." Toph's fingers continued to drum along the railing, their pace unaffected by her student's attempts to console her. Sensing his failure as well, the Dark One reluctantly broke off and sauntered towards the tower.

"I'll be feeding Fafnir," he grunted as he left. "If there's...anything you need..." he added ashamedly, having caught himself, "just—"

"I'll holler," she said with an invisible smile of gratitude. "Thanks." The Dark One would have returned the smile, but was interrupted when a frazzled looking messenger pierced the pagoda.

"Sir!" he panted. "Your other student and the healers from Ba-Sing-Se have arrived by train, as well as Master Satoru. They—"

"Finally!" Toph groaned. "Tell them to gather in the courtyard—and bring the prisoner." The Dark One nodded with acknowledgement before departing with the messenger, leaving Toph alone on the balcony facing the rising sun. After they had disappeared, she was finally alone to contemplate what she truly desired. With trepidation she lifted herself onto the balustrade, standing at a dizzying height above the unyielding ground below, wishing with every breath she took to let her body go limp and become one with the earth that vouchsafed her sight. Never before had she been responsible for so many lives.

"_Why couldn't Aang be here_?" she thought. "_He's the hero, not me. How can the greatest Earth bender in the world fight the world?_"

It didn't matter.

With a deep breath she let her weight carry her down to her element, gradually letting gravity overcome her. For the brief moment that she spent suspended in midair she began to realize:

It didn't matter.

She swung her feet beneath her body before slamming her weight into the ground, willing the foundations of the fortress to shake with her might. The shock-wave was felt all over the base, from the Mechanist and his son disembarking from their docked airship to the jittery professors emerging from their train. The batty old healer accompanying them held out her hand, expecting a thunderstorm.

As the dust clouds cleared she strode away from the crater that lay as testament to her prowess, lifting each foot with new confidence and strength. She realized that it didn't matter what she had done in the past, it was what she had come here to do that was important. She wouldn't let her fear hold her back from doing a dirty job: she was an earth bender after all.

As she approached the center of the courtyard she found a crowd beginning to assemble in front of her. She felt the Mechanist carting his chair ridden son, Teo, towards the middle of the yard, his prosthetic hand creaking with anxiety. From the other side of the grounds she could feel the nervous cadence of Ba-Sing-Se's doctors and the shaky saunter of the Taku medicine woman as they waddled over towards her. Following them were the haggard footsteps of Satoru, devoid of the enthusiasm and effervescence she had fondly remembered. Completing the assembly, her other students reunited by her side just as the Dark One and a collection of Fire Nation soldiers came by, carrying the still cocoon of plaster containing their sleeping prisoner.

"Er—good morning Sifu Toph," the Mechanist stammered upon seeing the approaching earth bender girl. Prying his hands from his son's wheelchair, the wiry bearded man attempted a small bow.

"Does this look like a good morning?" Toph snapped. The Mechanist jolted at hearing the venom in her voice and though her eyes were milky white, they seemed to bore through him with iciness.

"Oh—no, of course, that's...not what I meant."

"Really?" Toph pressed, "because it seems like you don't know why you're here."

"Er—no, I have been thoroughly briefed on the situation, I assure you," the Mechanist struggled to retaliate.

"Well let me refresh all of you," Toph announced as she beckoned to the Dark One. "What we thought was a plague ravaging Ba-sing-Se was really a tool used by this man to press new soldiers into his own private army," Toph said with a motion towards her prisoner. "Take a good look at the face of our enemy." She motioned for her student to remove Skuult's mask. No sooner than he did, the old man snapped awake, sprouted slimy tentacles from his face and saluted with a resonating "_BLUUUUGGGGHH!_" The crowd erupted all with frightened whispers of fearful awe and astonishment, all while the Dark One moved quickly to end the wicked old man's fun.

"Fascinating!" the Mechanist exclaimed, his beady eyes twinkling. "Uh—I mean, how horrid! Er...Sifu Toph," he addressed turning towards the earth bender with wrung hands. "I'm flattered that you called upon me to help resolve this crisis," he whispered, leaning towards Toph with apprehension. "But I'm just not sure how to combat these circumstances—especially against a man like that!" he said, pointing to Skuult's, now muzzled, grin. "In recent years, most of my skills have been used for making weapons of war," he said with a foul glare at the assembled Fire Nation soldiers, "hardly devices to be used on poor souls like these, and these doctors tell me there is no cure for the plague so I haven't any idea how—"

"I'm hearing a lot of excuses from the ' _great_ ' Mechanist," Toph said, "and for the record, we're not trying to cure this plague—not yet." She marched past the Mechanist's flummoxed expression and started pacing before the crowd. "I've brought the finest doctors in the Earth Kingdom here to concoct a drug powerful enough to sedate the possessed earth benders and give us time to find a cure in the prisoner's homeland. Should be easy enough, right?"

The healers all gave diffident nods.

"The hard part is going to be getting them to hold still long enough for us to apply the drug. That's why the Mechanist is here. But hopefully, this fortress should help him out with that," she said as she turned her digit towards the stronghold keep. "Excluding the top floor, that tower has a hollow space down its center—does that give you any ideas?" she asked tantalizingly.

"Well," the Mechanist murmured, unsure of what conclusion to reach, "it...it actually does!" The old man's eyes came alight and Toph could almost hear the gears turning in his head. "We could use the tower's architecture to suspend the counter-weight of a very large trap!" he declared. "We're not too far from the sea, so we should be able to get some fishing nets—"

"The fire navy has pledged us any and all support," Toph affirmed. A nearby officer raised his finger to protest, but wisely thought better of it.

"Yes!" the giddy old man exclaimed. "Then we'll be able to line the nets with tranquilizer and—"

"So you have your idea," Toph said, "and, reputedly, you're the greatest engineer this world has ever seen. Now it's time to start acting like it." The Mechanist's face constructed a look of uncertainty, but mustering his wits he re-contrived his confidence and devised his new spirit.

"You can count on me, Sifu Toph."

"That's what I needed to hear. So what about it Satoru, think the world's _second_ greatest engineer can give him a hand?"

The young mechanic began to protest before seeing Toph's impish grin. "...uh, thanks for noticing...er-em, I'll get right to it."

"Good idea!" Toph erupted, making the doctors jump. "Let's get going! Look alive people, they'll be here by sundown!" As the crowd dispersed and began scurrying to and fro, she stood rooted for a moment, breathing a silent prayer.

She wished she could give herself as much courage.

**Sweet Dreams, Sour Travels**

The misty morning hung like a veil above the snoring water tribesman, nestled snugly in his mummy bag. Each serene inhale brought pleasant visions to the fog of his slumber, each cacophonous exhale dispelling bad dreams with a roar. Sokka's sleepy mind rested cozily between the softly rumbling clouds of his subconscious until a new and inviting sound coaxed him out.

"Oh Sooookaaaaaaa," a dreamy voice addressed. "Wake up, sleepy head..."

From the voice's silky pitch to its buttery resonance, Sokka could almost swear it belonged to Suki. The sing-song tone it accompanied seemed out of place, but all the more inviting to his weary ears. He willed his reluctant lashes to part, expecting the smiling image of his loved one to greet him...

"**...OR YOU WILL DIE ALONE!**"

Sokka vs. Predator

His lids flew apart to receive the horrendous image of a roaring monster, with fangs dripping, mandibles gnashing, dreadlocks swinging and cavernous throat bellowing with fury. Nearly matching the pitch was Sokka's horror instilled scream as he shot out of his sleeping bag faster than a rocket. Not taking his eyes from the hideous beast towering above him, Sokka didn't see the boulder he slammed straight into as he scrambled for his escape. Recovering from the sharp ringing in his head, Sokka slowly began to notice maniacal laughing beginning to take the place of the savage roar—an oddly human laugh.

"_Hahahahahahahaha_—get enough sleep Mister Sokka?" Liam chortled as he morphed his mandibles back into jaws.

"Why is it that the only times we hear him laugh are when he's torturing us!" Sokka groaned with rage as he massaged his badly bruised forehead.

"Oh that's not true," Liam jokingly rejoined, "I laugh quite often when I'm not torturing people." Liam continued to laugh with sadistic glee as Sokka, with teeth grit like a vice, groaned his way into his boots. In the distance, Aang, Katara and Zuko were packing their things into Appa's saddle, eagerly preparing to depart the morning's oppressive shroud of gray fog. Sokka finished dressing himself in a hurry, just as desperate to escape the gloom—as well as his tormentor.

"_Hehe_—oh you must forgive me Mister Sokka," Liam said as he strode beside the fuming water tribesman. "It's better you suffer a rude awakening than fall prey to a marauding wolverine-bear." Sokka's irate march hardly echoed any gratitude. Both Liam and Sokka joined their awaiting party in the saddle as Appa prepared to launch off the ground. With a reluctant lurch, the sleepy sky bison catapulted them all into the abyss of mist.

"It's a wonder you find time to heckle Sokka on a mission as important as this," Zuko said curtly, his eyes fixed on the pages of the journal sitting in his lap.

"Oh come now, your lordship," Liam said, trying to stifle his fiendish chuckles. "I simply seized an opportunity along the way. Otherwise, I deplore senseless merriment," he said with a grin.

"Apparently you don't feel the same way about senseless distractions," Zuko murmured, his venomous eyes meeting the Arbiter's. The statement attracted all other gazes as well, as if a pebble had disturbed a once tranquil pond. "Oh?" Liam queried, the steely glow of his eyes unsheathed in interest.

"I'll be blunt," Zuko began, closing his journal and formalizing his gaze. "We've wasted an entire day getting acclimated to a place we're planning to leave once we find the lost colonists."

"Well that's a part of our mission," Katara angrily interjected. "Didn't you hear your uncle? If we don't help prevent civil war from breaking out here then we'll never have a hope of finding the lost colonists!"

"But he does have a point," Sokka added in a serious tone. "Our primary concern is protecting our own, and Iroh said it was the Arbiter's job to keep peace here, didn't he?" As he spoke, his voice grew deeper in an unapparent frustration. Katara was the first to see this, but was interrupted as he continued his tirade. "So if things are going to the dogs in this part of the world, then that's _his_ responsibility!" No sooner had Sokka pointed his accusing finger at the Arbiter that he found a furrowed brow staring back down it.

"Don't you presume to inform me of my duties, Mister Sokka," Liam whispered. His tone was so cold it gave the others raised hairs...or was it the cold morning chill?

"Whoa! Let's calm down," Aang intervened, crawling up the side of the howdah. "And for the record Liam, I think that prank of yours was priceless—"

"No," Liam interrupted, his face and body as still as stone. "The Fire Lord is right to be concerned for his peoples' safety." A silence followed that no one else dared to break for fear of snapping the drum tight tension between Zuko and the Arbiter. "If you all so clearly recall what was said that night in Cordéiba, then you will remember what my master, Archmage Emrys, said about the Druids."

"Who are they again?" Aang asked.

"For eons," Liam began leaning against the side of the saddle, "the Druids were the religious authorities in many parts of Midland, using their wood bending prowess to live off the land so that they could better interpret the will of our ancestors and the nature spirits of Anún, or the spirit world. Since they have such a close communion with the wilds of Milesia, they will likely know if and where your people have been spirited away to by their captors."

"Can we rely on them attending this gathering if they're so reclusive?" Zuko queried.

"We can, your Lordship," Liam responded, "and if they don't then we should be meeting some on the way—in fact we're travelling over one of their sacred places now." Liam pitched himself over the howdah's lip and pointed into the abyss below, grabbing the eyes of all in the saddle. "Below us lies the Wooden Road, a series of thoroughfares constructed by the ancient tribes of Milesia, both to help cross the multitudes of bogs bellow them and to act as conduits to the spirit world. Druids today sometimes use them as mediums through which to consult our ancestors in times of strife. So if I see one I'll flag him down for you, your excellency," he said in a cool tone. As Liam shuffled to the other side of the saddle, Zuko retrieved his journal and began reviewing it as Liam buried his face in a map. Detecting the resurrected tension, Aang moved once more to alleviate it.

"So," Aang began, desperate for a topic of conversation, "that's really interesting—what you said about the spirits...it seems similar to how I consult my past lives."

"Well," Liam began behind his parchment, "it might differ in the aspect that some Druids prefer to ' _enhance_ ' their meditation with a certain few herbs, berries...and, er—mushrooms."

As Aang and Katara chuckled at the remark, Liam emerged from his reading with widened eyes, seeming to have heard the wails of a ghost. He began morphing his ears into those of a bat and started pitching his head over the side of the saddle. Everyone's ears pricked with anticipation of detecting a foreign noise, but only the Arbiter's head reacted to the unheard sound. Suddenly, he bolted to the front of the howdah, his eyes thrown open with alarm.

"Aang, we have to get out of here we're...GAH!"

All were tossed about in the saddle when what seemed to be a meteor with wings fell from the heavens and crashed into Appa's flank, sending him hurling through the gray sky. As the shaken sky bison hastened to make his desperate departure from the cloudy void, his passengers turned their heads to witness their attacker. With disturbing beauty, the heavenly missile unfurled into what appeared to be a billowing black cloak that began to slither through the clouds in pursuit.

"Wyverns!" Liam identified with dread.

They whipped back around as a hoarse shriek thrust itself from the clouds beneath Appa, accompanied by another dark creature from bellow. Before Appa could recoil in panic, the sky serpent's head darted towards his neck, plunging a phalanx of gnarled fangs into his skin. Accompanying his counterpart in the assault, the other wyvern dug his talons into Appa's hindquarters and yanked him into a careening dive towards the invisible ground below. The water tribe siblings struggled to cling to the saddle in the vertigo of their earthward plummet, their lives dependent on the strength of their weary limbs. Aang and Zuko tried desperately to keep the attacking creatures at bay, vehemently hurling balls of fire and gusts of wind anywhere into the dizzying backdrop of kaleidoscopic grays.

_No amount of retaliation availed them..._

_Not until the Arbiter took his stand, grasping the saddle with feet fixed like oaken roots..._

_Not until he threw his furrowed brow, rune ablaze with light, upon the horizon of the abyss..._

_Until his haunting voice trembled with sonority, ever pervading, ever rousing, ever majestic..._

_Until his radiant eyes flung open and he threw his arms wide, his hands outstretched and crackling with heavenly light..._

_Until he lit up those heavens, blinding the dark foes and casting them to the winds._

Appa, now free of his assailants, fell resignedly towards the water, too weak and fraught to continue on. All grit their teeth in anticipation of a rattling landing, receiving only the brief jolt and cold splash of flesh meeting mire.

"We're sinking into a peat bog!" Liam shouted after feeling the sickening lurch of Appa descending into the depths of the sludge. Bubbles of thick slime erupted all around Appa's enfeebled bulk, threatening with raucous sloshes to smother and desiccate the poor creature.

"Appa!" Aang cried. "Appa, wake up! You've got to pull free!" The fallen creature gave no response, no look of acknowledgement from his glazed eyes, no grunt of response from his foaming mouth. Listlessly, blithely, peacefully, he succumbed.

"APPA!"

_Radiantly shown._

_It was Aang's turn for his light._

_Ascended, he did._

_Into the abyssal sky._

_With tremendous force._

_He extricated them all._

_And laid them to rest._

_On the ever winding path._

_The road most wooden._

**Into the Storm**

"Alright everyone, it feels good!" Toph announced as she inspected the netting in her hand. She gave the piece of rope a firm tug, letting the vibrations course through the net and back to her feet. Feeling the tiny tremors gather around her feet like guppies in a pond, Toph could sense the immense complex of ropes, cables, cords, and fishing nets they had labored so hard to construct. She could feel with every finger and toe how each component was stitched together with pulleys and sheaves that would allow the intricate network of fibrous webs to contract and hold the weight of thousands of struggling earth benders. "How's the sedative coming along?!"

"We're almost finished applying it!" the old healer lady responded as she poured a chaser of viscous fluid on the lines. "Pick up the pace, you ninnies!" she barked at the doctors accompanying her in her chore. "We haven't got all day!"

"She's right!" the Dark One announced from the parapets. "I've sighted them!"

"Tell me what you see!" she shouted as she ran over to the inner wall, finally boosting herself atop it with a pillar of stone. Approaching her student's side at the top of the wall, she could feel his quickening heartbeat, pulsing temples, quivering fingers, shaking knees and windswept hair. She could almost imagine what lay before them simply from his response. He needn't have described it, and he didn't for all the tangible fear that clenched his heart.

Slowly, Toph began to sense the absence of sun on her cheeks. They began to cool from lack of light, and she knew that meant shade, a shadow that could only have come from a cloud that towered high enough to blot out the very sun. She could almost hear it now; the swirling and scattering of columns of sand and dust, whipping and thrashing about on a fierce wind bearing itself towards the stronghold with fury.

They were all engulfed in the darkness of the sandy tower's shadow, a seeming night during the day. The difference made little impression on her, though she could still feel the clouds of dread building in the Dark One's heart, almost as if a sandstorm of his own had seeped into his chest. For a moment she could almost say that she saw from another's perspective, as much as she could equate with seeing. For one of the first times, she had made another's fears her own.

She knew that this would be his moment of truth as much as hers. For better or worse, she knew they would come out of this feeling the way someone like Aang did; feeling the weight of the world on one's shoulders...whether it broke him or not.

"Lieutenant," Toph addressed.

"Yes sir," a nearby Fire Nation officer responded, his formal tone belying his fear.

"Bring our prisoner to the parapets," she commanded. "If we don't...if we don't come out of this," she said with hesitation, "then he's going down with us." The officer nodded in comprehension and rushed back towards the stronghold keep in compliance. "And tell everyone to brace themselves."

As she felt the wall of shadow and dust approaching, she reached out and clasped a firm grip on the Dark One's shoulder, making her strength his. The storm was upon them. Covering their faces in cloth, the earth bending master and her student stood together as they were slowly swallowed up by the sandy teeth of nothingness.

**The Wooden Road**

The shaken travelers were all pitched from the confines of the saddle to land on the hard surface of wooden planks below. Recovering her senses, Katara awoke to find the still sky bison hanging limp over the edge of the path. Just as still, and silent, was Aang's head, plunging itself into Appa's deathly cold husk of a body. Eyes wide with alarm, she rushed over to her wounded comrade's side, a queue of healing water at her hands.

"Hold on!" Liam groggily commanded. Nearly in torpor after being shaken so vigorously, Liam limped over to the wounded bison's side and laid his hands upon the great beast's neck.

"Wha—what are you doing?!" Aang demanded. His tear streaked face only barely managed to peel away from his beloved friend's body. With widening eyes, Aang witnessed Liam's fingers grow into a web of roots and tendrils that began to worm and creep their way into the bison's seeping wounds. "No! Get off him!" the distraught monk pleaded in a stupor of sorrow. "Have some respect!"

"Wait!" Katara urged, holding back the distraught air bender. "Look!" Turning his head, Aang saw Liam's tendrils rapidly pumping a viscous green liquid out of Appa's wounds. After several long minutes of extraction, Liam retracted his root-like appendages and expelled the venom from his swollen hand into the waters nearby, which sizzled and frothed upon contact with the sinister fluid.

"There," Liam beckoned to Katara, huffing with exhaustion. "Have at him."

The water bender quickly went to work, using her healing touch to dress Appa's wounds. With each wave of her hand, a wave of water, glowing bright as the moon, would caress and coax new life into the bison's shredded skin. Steadily, the furry mass began to manifest signs of life once again, from heaving sides to groaning sighs as he lay on his side. Shoulders slumped with relief, Aang collapsed onto the wooden floor, joining Liam, Zuko and Sokka in their incessant panting.

"Well," Sokka wheezed, "things could be worse. At least we landed somewhere safe."

"I said this place was sacred and revered," Liam huffed as he sat up. "Locations don't usually earn those titles by being safe."

"What?!" Sokka exclaimed in breathless panic. "You said that Druids come here all the time!"

"'All the time' and periods of spiritual strife are a bit exclusive to another don't you think?!"

"We can tell each other campfire stories about how perilous it is later," Zuko grunted with frustration, "just tell us how we get out of here now."

"Quickly," Liam replied. "New Caerleon isn't too far away after we cross the bog, but it'll be Helheim getting their without our transport."

"Appa is not just our transportation!" Aang exclaimed, shooting up from the ground. "He's one of our own, and we're not leaving him behind!"

"Yes we are," Liam said on a cold note. From the tone, all looked in shock at the Arbiter before he spoke again. "Listen, at least a few of us must make it to the Tuath Comhairle, whatever happens to the creature. You, Lord Zuko and I will have to split up in order to find a path through this Labyrinth of roads. I suppose Miss Katara and Mister Sokka can stay behind to tend to your beast and rejoin us when he is well," Liam said with a taciturn glance. Aang responded with a resentful one, but Katara intervened.

"Go, Aang. We'll have him back in shape soon. We'll be fine."

With worry laden steps, Aang followed Liam and Zuko over the planks and into the mist. Looking forlornly over his shoulders, he saw his friends beginning to disappear into the fog, each looking back with vanishing looks of hope for his safety. Steadily, some of the first friends, the first family he had in his life faded to dark shadows and then to nothingness on the horizon; much like a family he once lost a hundred and three years ago. He now traipsed after his former enemies as they went head first into danger.

**The Colony**

Toph's student knelt beside her, shielding himself from the stinging torrents of sand while trying his hardest not to get blown away like a piece of rice paper in a typhoon. A steady smattering of lightning bolts erupted all around them in the storm of sand, through multiple means making the Dark One's hair stand on end. Toph also struggled to hold her position, all whilst keeping her hands fixed to the parapets, trying to make out a series of faint rumbles in the din of the windstorm.

_CRAASSSHH!_

A thunderous quake gripped all sides of the stronghold, another cloud of dust adding itself to the flurry. The outer wall had fallen.

_CRAAAASSSSHH!_

The second wall fell.

A colossal sound slowly began to emerge from the white noise of the storm, a steady pace of tremors...a tempo of _THOOM_..._THOOM_..._THOOM_! She secured her student in her arms and propelled them away from the wall as a massive stone fist came slamming down into the inner fortification, smashing it asunder with a deafening rumble.

Landing with a softened thud on the ground below, Toph and the Dark One struggled to regain their footing in the deluge of shockwaves, noise and overarching chaos. Turning about, the Dark One saw to his horror the titanic silhouette of a monstrous stone golem, lit up by blinding flashes of lightning as it crashed through the fortress walls with absolute impunity. She could feel it clearly now, a large colony of beating hearts and hastened breaths, drawing the surrounding earth into a singular body like a hive of bees that could grow legs and strut about the earth. Perhaps to his benefit, she thought, he couldn't sense that this gargantuan construct was only the harbinger of a whole parade of megalithic titans. All the same, he could not contain his dread of what he saw before him.

"We're gonna need a bigger net."

**To Choose**

After an agonizing span of time, the three comrades met a tridactyl split in the ominously beckoning arms of the wooden road. With only short and gloomy discourse did they reach consensus on the paths they would follow; Aang to the left, Zuko to the right and the Arbiter to the middle. At first glance, it didn't seem to matter, but each road seemed to be a different head, whispering different things into their ears.

Liam treaded softly along the path of planks, watching anxiously as his companions steadily disappeared at his side. Softly he walked, softly so that he could keep track of the faint footsteps of his departing compatriots until they could no longer be heard. He was alone. He was afraid.

The very feeling felt as foreign to him as his surroundings. Being educated in the Metal Empire imbues one with the hallowed values of wisdom, intellect, knowledge and innovation, for courage is rarely needed when understanding makes a superior substitute. Though he could understand so little of his environment now, with its air of mystery, wonder, enchantment—that god damned feeling of inscrutability!

So his mind wandered through the mist now, desperately grasping at the gray vapors for courage if not understanding of this unfamiliar place. His mind's hands began molding the swirls and folds of the mist into the marble walls and arched windows of his classroom at the Ferraria Skye academy, complete with the echoing lectures of his old science teacher, Archmage Emrys. With ease did he harken to the curricula as the wise old sage would expound upon it with the pantomime of a thespian and the tenor of an orator. With such wonder was his mind filled from his masters lessons, told with the grand illusions of metal bending, that he could almost feel the thrill of innovation and drive for discovery experienced by the Magisters of the Empire's golden age. He could almost bear the listlessly droning monologues of his host mother and father—grammar and history instructors respectively—who pontificated endlessly on their own spin of ' _the gilded times gracing the Empire today._ ' Even as a youngster he knew better than to swallow that blather.

"_No, this isn't working,_" he thought. "_Reminiscing the days of endless study will only worsen my nerves—maybe a change of scenery?_"

No sooner had the thought graced his mind when the images of the Imperial capital's gaunt halls and elegant vaults transformed into the resplendent arbors and jovial trails of Milesia's very own Parthalón forest. They were just as he remembered them. He could easily recollect the summers when he would jog the length of those woods with his father beside him in the form of a wild panther-hound. Each day was filled with lessons of poetry, music, crafting and storytelling, all taught under the shade of a cordial oak tree, all taught for the enjoyment of the moment as well as for education's sake. He was fond of embracing nature's mysteries then, when she seemed friendlier. But the autumns grew colder, harsher crueler! They became unbearable after his father was taken from him...claimed by the hunters...murdered by the Firbolg—

"_No! This won't do at all!_" he thought as he pinched his brow, willing his eyes to stay dry. "_Think of something else!_"

But he could not. His meant was kept fixed on the cold autumn's that he would spend in service to the local farmers, collecting the harvests that the Empire relied upon for the grain doles.

"_Gilded times of the present indeed,_" Liam scoffed to himself.

The chilled winds of those bleak days of labor sliced at his skin, but sharpened his resolve as sharp as the swords he was trained to use by Thane Lorencandra. He paused in the center of the road. A great job he was doing of distracting himself, he thought. But he knew he couldn't help it. She had made that disgusting season bearable.

Even so, those were still dark days, times when the wonder of the world's mysteries became lost to him, when he clung even harder to the lessons of science and rational thought, when he began to fear what he couldn't learn to understand. It was only when he saw Archmage Emrys' smiling beard aboard that sky ship that he knew he had a home in both worlds. It was for these reasons, he felt, that Lord Camulos would not have words with him. If only he could've found a home in this place.

_Creak._

Liam about-faced, his heart pounding and eyes darting desperately through the mist, searching for the noise and its maker. His breath came in shallow spurts though his poise remained steady, his muscles tensing.

"Mister Aang?" he ventured. "Lord Zuko, is that you?"

..._Creak_...

Liam reached over his back and with a swift, steady, deliberate motion, drew his five-and-a-half foot claymore from its sheath. Brandishing his sword alongside his teeth, the Arbiter spread his feet and held his stance, relinquishing neither his ground nor his fears.

"I warn you menace," he hissed from the depths of his diaphragm, "I come armed!"

..._Creak_..._Creak_..._Creak_...

**KUTHOOM!**

From behind him, the hissing head of a wyvern emerged, bellowing from the very caverns of its emerging body as it crept closer across the planks. Liam whirled around to face his challenger, his sword whooshing with fury, only to lose his footing to a sharp pain on his calves. The wyvern's screeching counterpart arrived from the direction Liam had previously travelled, its wingtips clacking on the wooden floor as it inched closer to the frenzy and sunk its fangs into the Arbiter's legs.

Liam's grunts of pain soared into notes of agony as the other serpent latched onto his wrists and began to pull at his body with vigor. His calves were shredded, his arms were strained and twisted, his spine creaked, his joints cracked, his tendons frayed. Pulled from both sides by vices of venomous fangs, Liam had no choice but to let his body stretch like wood taffy between the two hungry beasts.

Mixed in with his moans of pain were the grunts of strain between the creatures fighting to tear him half like a rubbery wishbone. Each sordid serpent gave a heaving growl of effort to accompany each jerk and twist of their sinuous necks, forming a rhythm of seesawing snarls that grew more familiar with each aching minute.

_GRRIR_..._GRRORR_..._GRIRRIR_..._GRORROR_..._GIRRDER_..._GONNOR_..._GORDRR_..._GHONORR_..._ORDERR_..._HONORR_..._ORDER_..._HONOR_..._ORDER_..._HONOR_..._ORDER_..._HONOR_!

He had taken enough. With eyes aglow with fury, he sent rivulets of electrical arcs coursing through his legs and arms, shocking his attackers until they flailed away in bewilderment. One hadn't gotten far when a massive set of jaws erupted out of the water and clamped onto its wing, yanking it into the bog with terrified screams and sickening gurgles. The remaining wyvern hovered fearfully above before flying away with horrified screeches as the amphibious jaws manifested eyes to gaze hungrily at the floating morsel.

As the cavalcade of monsters sped away into distant waters, the Arbiter laid limp upon the wooden road, his mangled body as tattered and unraveled as a shattered loom. Slowly, the mass of shredded and torn wood matter constituting his limbs began to mend and shrink back into place. As his broken body began to heal, his haggard face turned towards the sky, seemingly as stretched and warped as he was now. His sagging eyes slowly peeled open and looked with lament on those contorted heavens.

"_Tell me, great Lord Camulos, why—why must I...choose..._"

**Pitfall**

Their cleverly crafted net proved only a minor obstacle to the monstrous band of stone titans as they cut and shredded through it with ease. Each snap, each yank, twist, pop and crack of a rope or chain did the same to Toph's stomach as she listened to the symphony of her unwinding plan.

"THEY'RE CUTTING THROUGH THE NET!" she bellowed at the top of her lungs, hoping someone would hear her through the storm. When no response reached her ears, her mind could only race frantically to find a solution. In the end, she could only think of one. Willing a shelf of stone to propel her through the air, she slammed her full weight into the sternum of the nearest giant, shattering its torso and sending its occupants falling to the earth below.

Upon reaching the ground herself, she began twisting and turning her body, willing the surrounding soil and rock to crumble and churn into a massive whirlpool of earth. As her blender of stone and rock sunk into the ground and grew in diameter, more of the earthen giants got caught up in its fury and were sent tumbling down into the typhoon of soil. Each earthy carapace, each stone suit of armor fractured and broke apart in her trap, revealing the hissing, protesting bodies of her possessed captives.

Toph anchored her feet to the ground and grit her teeth with the strain of maintaining her gambit. The world seeming to crumble all around her, she was determined to be the last thing to remain standing. If her plan failed, she would not; not if it cost her life.

**To Lead**

Zuko paced lightly across the Wooden Road, keeping his hands firmly clasped atop the hilts of his Dao swords. The fog was impermeable, even to his keen vision, but his sight grew with the alleviating grace of a prevailing wind. With gentle hands the breezes cleared some of the fog, when, to his surprise, he glimpsed the dark shape of a human figure in the distance.

"Hello?" he beckoned through the mist. "Who's there?" he clutched the handles of his swords even tighter, minimizing his shape against the backdrop of gray as he gradually inched his way towards the stranger.

"It's me," the shadow responded. "Don't you remember?" The voice was feminine, sonorous, and from the tone seemed playful, almost mocking, but most of all...familiar. "Or have you already forgotten me?" she said, her once melodious voice beginning to break with hurt. As he got closer the silhouette began to assume more detail, taunting his memory even more, a sneaking suspicion nagging his mind but one he could not believe.

"I'm not surprised," she said, once again with injury. "You spend so much time with your friends, going off on your adventures; yet you spend so little thinking about your country, your home, your people—your family." The girl turned towards him, revealing an all too familiar face.

"Azula?!" Zuko gasped. "How did you—"

"I'LL ASK THE QUESTIONS!"

The Fire Nation princess lunged at her brother, leaving a scorching trail of blue flame in her wake. Zuko already had his swords drawn to greet her when she stopped just short of them.

"Drawing blades on your sister?!" she spat with amused rage, her face contorted with demented anger. "You'll have a lot to answer for besides desertion!"

"Please, let me explain—" Zuko pleaded.

"_Oh_, you'll have _plenty_ of time to explain," she said with a jeering smile on her tauntingly tilted head. "Explain to me why you didn't do what a responsible leader should have done and delegated this little errand to one of your generals or heralds! Why did you bounce off on one of your adventures with your little friends, leaving all the responsibilities with dear old uncle, _hmm_? Why did you leave when your people needed you?—when I needed you?!" "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Zuko bellowed from the bottom of his lungs. His skin was nearly as moist as the fog, while his breath was dry, parched, and desperate for the nourishing air. For a time, Zuko only heard the admonitions of his sister's manic eyes as they burrowed into his soul. "I...I had already failed to protect my people once," Zuko staggered in short breathed reply, his gaze fixed on the path beneath them. "I wasn't about to let someone else add to failures that were mine."

Azula simply stood against his rebuke, quietly giving him the same stare. Zuko waited silently for her answer, looking upon her for some clue to her inner thoughts. But she betrayed none. She only kept staring with white, blank, soulless eyes.

"You never fail to disappoint Zuko," she spoke at last, her breath a resigned whisper. "I was expecting these kinds of excuses." Zuko stared back this time, but with a face of regret and shame showing the humanity in his soul. "You're wrong about another thing, brother," she added, "I do understand. I understand what I have to do now."

Without another word, she slowly strode away towards one of the mile-posts along the road and propped herself atop it, facing towards Zuko with the same blank, apathetic stare. She showed no fear that would be usual for one standing near the precipice of such an abyss. Zuko's chest filled with icy dread when a tear slid down her pale cheek.

"I understand that if you won't help me, dear brother...no one will..."

Her fall was Silent. Slow. Peaceful.

"WAIT! NOOO!"

Zuko rushed to the edge of the road, madly leaping towards the surface of the glassy water, forever stained with the pale, serene visage of his sister. He would have saved her, or if not, then joined her so they could've paid the world's dues together. He would have, were it not for a pair of hands seizing him by the shoulder and dragging him away from the murky quagmire.

"Peace amigo, peace."

The arms dragged his reluctant body to the center of the road where a ring of dark cloaked men awaited him. Their faces and bodies were all concealed in dark foods and tunics as they stood above the flustered fire bender.

"She's in the water!" Zuko screamed. "She's drowning!"

"No one else is here," one of them said, "none but us."

"You are very lucky my friend," another man said. The addressing man wore tall leather boots, a black cape and jacket, a round, wide brimmed hat and a dark scarf to conceal most of his face. Beneath the rough cloth came a voice as soft as satin with an accent just as smooth. "If you were any further in that bog, you would've been beyond all help...your mind that is."

"Who—who are you?" Zuko panted.

"Oh," the man gasped, recoiling with embarrassment. "Forgive me, your excellency." The man stooped down and offered his hand to Zuko's, lifting him off the road upon consent. "I," he began with a flourishing bow, "am Jingo. And this," he added with a grand wave of his arm, "is my merry entourage—or rather, a semblance of it." Zuko's amber eyes scanned the panel of 'merry' men, returning to Jingo's expectant glance with one of skepticism.

"The Black Hoods I presume?" Zuko ventured.

"None other."

"Why did you help me?"

"Why so cynical?" Jingo replied in a shocked tone. Zuko maintained his suspicious stare, sinking his benefactor's shoulders with the weight of his doubts. "Aye, your excellency," Jingo relented, "I will cut to the point. We have been seeking you out to petition your company's exodus from Milesia."

"If you know who I am and why I'm here," Zuko began. "Then you'll know why that's impossible."

"Oh, but you misunderstand," Jingo objected. "We wish to aid you in your quest as to hasten your journey home. You see, we believe we know the location of your missing compañeros."

"What! How do you know this?!"

"Well, it's no secret as to who is responsible; Pirates from Imperial shores, brigands who will exchange the freedom of others for their own. They have taken some of my men as well."

"And that's supposed to make me trust you?"

"You are right to be skeptical, my Lord," Jingo sighed. "But see for a moment, mi amigo that we have much in common." Zuko kept his eyes on his petitioner as he circled around to his side, whispering into his ear. "Just as you wish to redeem the spirit of your nation and set your people free from their dark past, I fight to win independence for mine! Your guide, the Arbiter, is simply trying to compensate for his failures."

"Oh?"

"Well, first he failed to keep your world secret from us," Jingo replied, "and all the while he only panders to the demands of the Imperial swine while leaving his countrymen to suffer the consequences—all affairs which, frankly, are none of your concern. Even if they were, one week is hardly enough time to become familiar with them. That is why we ask that you leave."

"Even if all of what you're saying is true," Zuko said with unease, "I can't risk the outcome of my mission on your intel."

"Well even I am not so credulous, but for us, as leaders, to not at least look into matters would be negligence...on both of our parts." Zuko paused, his face unintentionally betraying the consternation he felt, inadvertently assuring his benefactor of his cooperation. With smiling eyes, Jingo motioned for his company to follow him away from the bemused leader as he stood silently in the fog. "Join us in New Caerleon," Jingo shouted over his shoulder. "It shall be there that we liberate both our peoples."

With that, the stranger and his gang disappeared into the mist, leaving Zuko alone, looking inside himself for answers to the questions swimming in his mind like the monsters in the bog. Who could he afford to trust? This man? The Arbiter? Himself?

**A Godsend...and a Hell-raiser**

In the din of the swirling vortex of earth, stone, mortar, brick and bodies, she could barely hear the overhead sound of an approaching godsend.

"GAS GRENADES, AWAY!" the Mechanist's voice shouted from the gondola of his overhead airship. Just as promised, the skyward vessel produced a shower of missiles, each dispersing a trail of noxious mists into the already unruly mess beneath. As each clay missile began to fumigate the chaotic crater, the liberated earth benders caught in the fray were steadily subdued, growing weary with the ferocity of their dissent.

"Yes!" Toph thought with relief. Her heart pounded with joy as she slackened and slowed her motions, bringing the whirlpool of rock to a slow halt. The air above her began to calm as well, the dust storm beginning to settle, allowing both the sun's rays and Toph's allies to rush to her aid. Her plan had worked...

The Dark One was the first to slide down the sides of the crater to greet her, wrapping her in a warm hug of celebration. Toph reciprocated with another bone crushing embrace, smiling gleefully and twirling her lanky student in circles through the air.

"GGEEEAAAHHHH!"

Toph's heart stopped at hearing the pain filled scream, sensing that it came from a Fire Nation soldier at the lip of the crater. All around her she could feel the rustles and stirrings of buried earth benders, all exploding out of their earthen prisons to attack the surrounding soldiers. Within moments,several soldiers were dragged, screaming and clawing with desperate protest into the ground and asphyxiated under the breath crushing, steaming hot loam. The other soldiers fared far worse as they were pinned to the ground, wailing in protest as the infected earth benders exhaled clouds of black spores into their face masks, converting them into brethren for their horrific army. In the distance they could hear the, rumbles, crashes and rage filled screeches of what they assumed to be Fafnir grappling with yet more stone golems.

Forming an eye in the tempest of terror, a tall, wiry figure approached the edge of the crater, smiling with wicked satisfaction at his work. Toph and her student stood in shock as the sadistic grin of a freed Skuult smiled down upon them.

Her plan had failed...

**Across the Sea**

Aang rested his craning body on a mile post, his weary joints creaking with the agony of carrying his body weight across the vast distances of the bog. His staff laid askew beside him, equally strained at having to ease its master's burden without the aid of air bending. For the length of the journey he dared not unfurl his glider for fear of losing the path through the omnipresent haze. For the entirety of his foray, he was tied to the Wooden Road, left no escape from his dismal surroundings, no way out.

His anxieties knotted in his chest when his ears heard a faint noise in the distance. It was a grunting, slavering pant akin to that of an animal, a kind of creature Aang, for once, wouldn't entertain the idea of meeting.

"Who's there?!" he barked into the void, standing with staff in hand.

"It's me!" the voice of Liam responded. In the distance he could see the bounding silhouette of a scruffy, dog-like animal approaching him. After it came into sharper focus, the creature began to transform into the hastily striding form of the Arbiter. Aang's twisted stomach briefly lightened in relief of seeing his ally, though it quickly faded when he saw the look of pure loathing in his eyes.

"Finally!" the Arbiter snarled. "I manage to find a way out of here and you haven't even made it halfway through!"

"What!" Aang exclaimed. "How's that possible, I've been walking for miles—"

"Save it!" Liam barked. "Let's go find your bogtrotter friends and get out of here before we're all eaten."

Incredulous at such hostility, Aang paced uneasily after the Arbiter as he commenced a hasty march back down the road. "One would think that an individual as skilled at running off as yourself would have made more progress through here."

"Excuse me?!"

"That's getting more difficult to do every day," Liam responded over his shoulder. "It was thanks only to the glowing testimonies given to me by Lord Zuko and Grandmaster Iroh that you were able to stay on this mission, but they seem to have been...misinformed."

"What do you mean?!" Aang demanded, circling around to face the menacingly marching Arbiter.

"_Oh, so now you show some spine,_" the Arbiter jived under his breath. "I'm referring of course to your many desertions and idiocies, none of which seemed to have left a stain on your gilded reputation. What I wouldn't give to be able to do that," he said, his face growing distant with longing, "to run away from the Helheim that it is to be the Arbiter..."

"Enough!" Aang erupted, his blue arrow pulsing with rivers of blood. "I didn't run away from my duties as the Avatar then and I'm not going to now! Why are you even bringing this up after what we've been through together?! What's gotten into you?!" Without response the Arbiter brushed past Aang and continued down the road. "I'm going to help both our worlds," Aang went on, "even when the others said we don't have to."

"That's right," Liam replied, "you don't have to be here at all." The Arbiter froze in his tracks and turned to face the Avatar. "You may have stopped a mad tyrant, but you never restored balance, never moved the masses with the words of the wise counselor that I do need on this quest." Aang froze as well, along with his heart, which beat faintly under a frozen tundra of doubt growing over it, his certainty being swallowed up in the swirling mists and churning bogs around him. "You have accomplished much, Avatar, but you have served your purpose. Your services as the keeper of balance aren't now, nor ever will be, needed."

Just then, in the distance, Aang heard a scream. It was one he was familiar with, one he dreaded and wished with all his might that he would never hear. He could almost see its owner now, a faint light on the far horizon and he on an island, separated from it by a vast ocean of water, clouds and sea breezes. The scream, a horridly desperate, sickeningly piteous, distressingly innocent sound awakened an aurora of shining blue over the tundra in his heart, a radiance that pierced his eyes and arrows with a corona of light that burned brightly to preserve the one far over the vast waters.

He ascended into the murky heights, propelled upon a wave of furious winds, carried upon a wave of somber black waters to the fading light of his love. The image of the Arbiter had vanished in his wake, as though into thin air; as though he, like the threat the Avatar charged off to face, never was.

**Skuult's Alternative**

"_Nu, uh, uh._"

Skuult waved his finger jeeringly as Toph moved to hurl a boulder at his brittle body. "You're in no position to fight little mud weasel," he the old man taunted. Toph soon arrived at the same conclusion as she heard the hoarse hisses and snarls of infected earth benders gathering around her. Up close, she could now feel the slow, alien tempo of their heartbeats and smell the heady, noxious odor of their spore tainted breaths.

"If I had been free to speak before," Skuult began in a victimized tone, "I would have informed you that using anesthetic would have been a wasted effort. The Black Blight is fueled by wood bending itself. Nothing can stop those possessed by it besides a cure or...death." The devilish Druid grinned with pleasure at uttering the last word, seeing the disquiet in Toph's face and the fury in the Dark One's eyes.

"As though you went out of your way to tell us," he spat at the sadistically giggling sage.

"Oh, no need to be so irate, young one," Skuult snubbed, approaching them with candor. "There can still be a happy ending to this for both of us." Toph's clenched fist and the Dark One's gritted teeth reluctantly loosened as they kept an ear open for Skuult's petition. "I maintain a laboratory in my homeland, equipped with the resources I need to formulate a cure for the Blight. If you would agree to my terms, then, once my campaign has concluded, I would be only too happy to release what's left of my army to your custody."

"You bastard!" the Dark One roared. "What kind of a deal is that?!"

"The only one you're going to get," Skuult said, his tone hushed with warning. "So don't deliberate long. It isn't as though you have that many options." The Dark One rushed forward to tackle his foe, but was stayed by his teacher.

"No," Toph murmured, her voice a faint, injured squeak. "He's right."

Skuult chuckled with satisfaction.

"The first thing I'll need is some transportation."

**To Seek Peace**

Katara knelt in the nape of Appa's neck, stroking his wounds with the healing touch of her hands as his labored breathing rocked her back and forth. The beast's grunts of discomfort escalated with each wave of her palm, growing louder as he arose from his coma.

"I'm so sorry, Appa," she said with remorse. "I'm doing the best I can. HEY SOKKA!" she called out, "how are those herbs coming?!"

"Just give me a minute!" he barked back as he rummaged through some sacks. "Let's see," he murmured to himself as he sifted through the contents of a bag, "Boomerang—_Awesome_. Zuko's diary—_Boring_—"

"Hurry up!"

"Alright, alright! Medicine bag—_Bingo_." Upon lifting the flap of the pouch, Sokka found something small and furry blocking the entrance. "MOMO! You slept through the entire thing! I oughta—oh no!"

"What do you mean, ' _oh no!_ '"

"I just figured out why he conked out on us," Sokka responded glumly, holding open an empty medicine bag where a fat, happy, overdosed lemur used to be.

"That's just great!" Katara fumed. She ceased her healing motions, letting her hands fall by her sides as her brows fell over her frustrated eyes.

"Calm down," Sokka urged as he knelt beside his harrowed sister. "I'm as anxious to leave as you, but it's going to take longer to heal Appa if you keep putting pressure on yourself." Katara was still, silent, her eyes now fixed pensively on the fields of gray and black before her. "What is it?" Sokka asked.

"Nothing," Katara said, turning away. "It's just...why do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Why do men sometimes feel like they have to be somewhere else...somewhere far away on some mission, away from the people that need you—I mean, I understand having to be called away...but wanting to?"

"I don't know about that, but the Arbiter seems to know what he's doing."

"I wasn't talking about the...the—"

"I hear it too." Both Sokka and Katara pricked their ears to the surging crash of a mighty wave that grew in the distance. Soon it came into full view; a cataclysmic spout of black water propelled by an immeasurable hurricane of fog. Shielding them both from the stinging spray of the epic torrent, Katara could barely glimpse through the gaps in her fingers a solitary pinprick of light at the epicenter of the swirling blades of mist.

"Aang?!" Katara called out. "AANG!"

The Avatar showed no response as he floated upon dizzying heights, catatonic with the power surging through him. Then, without warning, he struck out with an immense blade of icy water, shearing them off from the wooden road no more than a furlong in front of them. The water tribe siblings clutched the deck with all their might while Appa reared in panic, almost squashing them underfoot as he bore back down on the road.

"AANG! STOP!" Katara pleaded, her hoarse voice lost on the roar of the winds. Another monstrous wave emanated from the cyclone of water and ripped the other side in two, setting their peer adrift as a raft. As the platform of wooden planks beneath her bobbed and shook, she crawled out to the edge of the raft. Her teeth clenched with determination, her hands waving with focused gestures, she willed a water spout of her own to carry her up to the center of the burgeoning storm. As she pierced the swirling fog, she saw the Avatar, glowing with fury, as he almost made a gesture to bat her away like a fly. But in the moment she was seen hurling herself into the fray, The Avatar hesitated from his rebuke, long enough for Aang to see her fury filled fists encase him in a pillar of ice.

From bellow, Sokka could see the rescinding storm cloud produce two large drops of dark rain, one diving with urgency into the black glass bellow, the other falling into it with submission. Sokka sat bolt upright, his eyes searching madly through the waters until, to his relief, he saw Katara's head surface and swim towards him with Aang in her grasp. He could see her swimming over to the edge of shattered timbers and planks that formed their raft and helped her yank the limp air bender's body over the edge. Katara took her place beside him, drawing the water out of his lungs until he began to splutter and cough out the rest, all while Sokka shooed away Appa's affectionately licking tongue.

"_Uggh,_" Aang groaned. "What—what happened?"

"You went berserk on us is what happened!" Sokka cried. "What's the matter with you, you almost killed us!"

"No!" Aang protested. "I heard you both screaming, and then I saw it—you were both surrounded by these horrible sea monsters, they were going to—"

"Aang, slow down!" Katara urged. "We weren't in any danger. Maybe you were imagining it."

"Well, I certainly didn't imagine him going into the Avatar state," Sokka added.

"But I saw—I had to come back for you," Aang said with desperate finality. "I couldn't leave you again...I couldn't fail you again."

"Aang...Why!Why do you see yourself as such a failure!" Katara cried, vexation cracking her voice. Both Sokka and the bog were completely silent, the mist seeming to freeze in time as Katara knelt next to the Avatar, her eyes beginning to surrender tears of frustration. "A hundred years ago, the first time you left, I could understand—it even worked out for the better. But when you left for the Western Air temple...why? The world wasn't on your shoulders then, so I don't understand why you felt like you had to leave...why you didn't see yourself as being worthy of those who love you!" Her breath came in shallow heaves, every ounce of her effort devoted to eliciting response from the withdrawn monk that rested before her. "I understand having to leave...but you didn't have to, you just left...without telling anyone."

"I left..." Aang murmured, "Because I'm not the Avatar...not what it should be." Aang sat up, resting his head on his knees as he mustered the courage to show his friends the void in his heart.

"I don't understand, Aang?" Sokka pressed. Katara remained silent.

"The Avatar is supposed to be a peacekeeper, a bridge between the four nations...and I failed."

"But you—"

"Remember that time we visited the Great Divide, when I couldn't resolve the feud between the Zhangs and the Gan Jins without lying to their faces?"

"Well—"

"And that time in Yu Dao? I nearly failed to prevent the hundred year's war from starting all over again...and I didn't even end the last one."

"What?! What do you mean, of course you—"

"Even if I had killed him, even if a solution hadn't dropped out of the sky to settle my selfish qualms, I would've just made a martyr out of him, like I did anyway. I never convinced the people of the Fire Nation why Ozai's tour of destruction wasn't in their best interests, why it was wrong. His followers are still lurking in the fire Nation as we speak. Zuko has good reason to be worried about his throne...and it's because of me."

All were silent as Aang rose to his feet and paced towards the edge of the platform.

"Time and again I've failed as a diplomat, but succeeded as a bender...but the world I see now, the one being built on industry and science, won't have use for the latter...it won't—it doesn't—need me. That's why I left, not because I had the world on my shoulders, but because it didn't need me anymore. I can see why the Arbiter didn't want me on this mission."

Aang turned to regard his friends.

"But I'm not running away this time. Whether _I'm_ needed or not, the one's _you_ love are in danger, and I'll do whatever I can to help them."

"I know one of them is in danger," Katara said, rising to meet Aang, "from himself. Aang," she implored, taking his hands in hers, "if you're not the Avatar now, then you have another hundred years ahead of you to work on it, and we'll always be there to help you, whether it takes a hundred years or not." His somber face softening, Aang clutched the pair of hands in his own. He slowly began to feel the nebulous pang in chest fade away again, finally gone, releasing his heart to boundless new freedoms in this new world.

"Settling feuds and making peace," he sighed, "all in a day's work for an Air Nomad—"

Before he could speak again, the raft began to quake and rock from side to side. Looking over the edge of the platform, they could see multitudes of spindly roots crawling up the sides, greedily worming and crawling up their ankles. Before they could rush to slice away the spidery invaders, the raft gave a massive heave as it was thrust up out of the water. A titanic root had emerged from the depths of the bog that proceeded to rocket them into the dizzying heights of the sky.

The occupants of the raft sunk to the floor, clutching whatever branches or slivers of wood for dear life as the tremendous gravitational forces yanked them about like ragdolls. The gargantuan tentacle of wood continued to propel them mightily about over the bog until it suddenly ceased. Cautiously peeling his eyelids open, Aang's face was greeted by the warm caress of the sun's rays as they pierced an opening in the choking fog of gray like heavenly spears. Aang urged his companions to their feet so that they could behold the spectacle before them. Stretched out for furlongs ahead was a recess that had developed in the fog, a grand tapestry woven out of the gold, crimson and sapphire threads of the sunset.

But then, out of the corner of his eye, Aang found a sight even more breathtaking. From the wall of clouds before him emerged a colossal silhouette, one that he could recognize as belonging to only one kind of creature on the face of this earth. Aang could barely utter the words...

"It's a...Lion Turtle."

**The Ancient One**

As Aang spoke, an immense, lithe, serpentine neck emerged from the clouds, draped in a curtain of pond-weed and water vines that constituted the creature's mane. From beneath the façade of foliage emerged what seemed like a craggy precipice or cliff face that shuddered and tore long gashes into its own surface. Soon the cracks and tears began to part, revealing two vast orbs of darkness, each as black as the water beneath them. It was then they saw the eyes of the creature upon them, bearing into their souls like the folds of the nighttime sky.

"_Do you know what I am, Guardian of the East?_"

The voice was immense, all-encompassing as it seemed to resonate throughout the entire bog. Yet it seemed gentle and feminine, reassuring Aang as he trammeled up his fear of addressing the titan of a creature.

"Yes," Aang responded, his voice seeming like that of a gnat. "But I don't believe we've met."

"_I am Danu, lioness turtle..._"

Aang folded his hands and took a solemn bow, the others responding appropriately.

"_Rise..._"

They complied, and found they were now even closer to the lioness-turtle's void like eyes. Aang once again moved to speak in his miniscule voice.

"_It's an honor."_

" _**NO**_!"

All flinched at her thunderous bark as the gust of breath nearly scalped their heads bald. In his roaring panic, Appa nearly tumbled over the edge.

"_It is an outrage!_" she snarled with cold fury. "_It is desecration! It is sacrilege for your kind to intrude upon this abode! Or...it would be..._"

"We meant no disrespect," Aang pleaded, his voice still a pinprick of sound to the lioness-turtle's ears. "But please, what's the cause of your anger?" Hearing the small voice of the protesting Air Nomad, she lowered her head, seeming to examine her quivering quarry as they laid at her mercy. Then, with a seeming look of resignation, she willed the giant root over to her side, displaying the vast stretches of a sprawling ruined city atop her colossal shell just poking out through the shrouding clouds. The sight seemed to echo with lost glory as each castle and tower reflected the light as though made of glass instead of pale stone.

" _This was once Tyr-na-nOg, a paradise on the Earth_..._even when my children left it vacant to explore the world, I furnished these lands as a safe haven for them_..._but they could not band together, instead fragmenting into three tribes and fighting one another_..._because of this I could do nothing as the Milesians came across the sea and sacked our home_..._they each fought until they could no longer, whence they repaid my hospitality with abandonment_..._I was alone...left to conceal myself in this place_..._to stand by while my lands are plundered_..._to watch as history repeats itself with this island's new custodians_..._to wait until this Helheim of shadow and illusions becomes my tomb..._

"We...we can feel your pain," Katara whispered, her voice even fainter than Aang's. Danu turned towards her, having heard her murmur clearer than any shout.

"_You do more than that_..._you rise above it,_" the great creature said, contrition puncturing her face and voice. "_None of you gave up as easily as they—or I—did_..._none of you belong here with me..._"

The companions looked at each other, overjoyed and buoyed by her words, gratefully bowing to her in thanks.

"_Now,_" the lioness turtle continued, "_I believe it is time you collected your friends._"

**A Solemn Vow**

Zuko stumbled onto shore, kneeling ardently in the soft sand, rapturously savoring the evening sun on his skin and the wind on his face. He lay there, relishing his freedom from the fog when he began hearing the approaching sounds of shifting sands.

"Your Lordship!" a voice called out in a heavy gasp. "Over here, sir!" Zuko turned his head to see the disheveled form of the Arbiter, advancing like a walking corpse, leaning on his claymore like a walking stick. Zuko could see Liam's skin had turned pale and his limbs quaked with each step he approached. Zuko bolted out of the sand and came to Liam's side, helping the Arbiter's sword shoulder the burden of his weight.

"What happened to you?" Zuko asked with concern.

"I've been torn apart," Liam sighed, "...by more than just wyverns." Zuko helped the beleaguered Arbiter to the ground, letting his claymore fall by his side. "Please, my Lord," Liam besought, "forgive me."

"It's alright," Zuko replied with confused features. "This trip has messed with everyone's head." Liam only clasped the Fire Lord and implored further.

"I know what it is to love one's people," he whispered, nearly out of breath. "I promise you, your Lordship...I will see to it that you return home with yours."

Zuko looked away, unsure of what to say until he saw a familiar shape on the rosy fingered dusk. It was Appa that approached in the distance, no doubt with Aang and the others astride. He looked away again, his eyes distracted with thought, his mind burdened with choice, all until he faced the Arbiter again.

"No," he said..."I will."

With that, Liam's eyes began to relent as he slipped off into unconsciousness. Zuko held the Arbiter by his side, all the while waiting, waiting for his friends to bear them both away...away from the road most wooden.

**Any Fort in a Storm**

Toph stood on the gondola of the mechanist's airship, the steady hum of its engines nearly lulling her weary body asleep, coaxing her into closing her watery gray eyes. By her flank she could feel the whiskered muzzle of Fafnir gently tickling her ribs. She could feel the creature's fatigued heartbeat and labored breathing, symptoms of the battle they had both braved and suffered. She flinched as the Dark One's hands appeared on her other shoulder, her senses having been made lethargic from her futile labor.

"I'm sorry," he retracted. "I just...I only wanted to—"

"It's fine," she murmured, her voice soft and hoarse. "You don't owe me from before."

"I just wish I had enough strength for both of us now," he said, his eyes squeezing together with frustration.

"There's something else you can do."

"Anything."

"Tell me what you see...It's so high up here. I can't feel anything."

He craned his head mournfully over the railing, taking in what lay beneath their lofty perch. It was not a pretty sight. Spread out before them were the docks and wharves of Pohuai Stronghold, lined with hundreds of ships of all different sizes, surrounded by thousands upon thousands of sickeningly silent bodies, all queuing up to stuff each and every ship to the gunwales. Some were departing as they spoke, rushing full speed off to the west, vouchsafing their destination with a loathsome cargo. She felt the Dark One's eyes drifting elsewhere to spare them both of the poignant panoramas.

"The Mechanist is saying farewell to his son," he said. "They're both hugging, tighter than I've ever seen before. I can see their tears," he described with a faltering voice, restraining tears of his own. "He just kissed his brow and is starting for the ship now, almost limping with the effort...and his son is just sitting there in his wheel chair...watching...like they're never going to see—" He knew better than to carry on. He simply cleared his throat as the Mechanist approached.

"I'm so, so sorry," the old man atoned. "We did all we could...and that was a brilliant plan of yours Sifu Toph," he said, trying to lift his capitulated voice. "By rights, we deserved to win that one."

A faint, "thank you," was his only response from the beleaguered earth bending master. With a defeated look, the Mechanist marched away, preparing to man the bridge as Skuult walked by.

"Head North-by-Northwest," Skuult shouted up to the cabin. "From there, follow the prevailing winds and we should be there in no-time."

"What'll be waiting for us once we get there?" the Dark One asked, a scornful pinch in his brow.

"Oh, you'll see..."

The Mechanist manned the pilot's cabin and prepared for takeoff. Wiping away his tears on his jacket sleeve, he grasped and pulled a series of levers until the airship jolted into action, slowly rising into the dusky sky.

"What else do you see," Toph murmured.

Looking before him, the Dark One gazed into the peach skinned horizon, ablaze with a palette seemingly chosen by the gods of the sky to mock the occasion. Holding back tears with a choking lump in his throat, he averted his eyes and desperately sought a less contemptuous, less ironic sight.

"The rest of the Fire Soldiers are repairing what remains of the fort. They're working tirelessly...piling brick by brick, stone by stone...clearing away the rubble, finding some use for it."

"Why are they doing that?" Toph asked, her weak voice intoned with confusion.

"Because..." the Dark One paused, puzzling over the answer in his mind. The more he did, the more he felt his spirits rising, rather strangely until he realized the answer. "Because," he said, clasping his teacher's shoulder, with confidence this time, "it wouldn't do anyone any good just lying there like that." Toph's head turned to face the Dark One, her eyes more confused than sorrowful.

"We tried our best," he continued. "And we must keep on trying. All we can do now is bide our time and wait for an opportunity to salvage this situation. We must stay together, and stay strong...your friends would."

From what he saw, the Dark One would have acknowledged defeat for she showed no response to his words. But from what he felt, from his hand still bolstering her ragged form, from the slowly slackening tension in her back, from the weary crane of her head onto Fafnir's supporting snout, from her resignation to rejuvenating slumber, he could tell he had at least begun to repay her.

Together they stayed until their ship vanished on the horizon, off to who knows where.

**Deliverance**

Azula awoke in shock. Her skin was damp with cold sweat. Her manic eyes darted in all directions, seeing nothing but the now familiar darkness of her iron cell. It was an abyss of shadow, the only light emerging from an artificial source in the ceiling during daylight hours to reveal the cold sterility of her surroundings.

She sat up on her bunk, her steel yokes and roughhewn garments chaffing her shivering skin. She curled into a fetal position, nuzzling her kneecaps with her chin, desperately trying to conserve heat in the flesh slicing cold of her prison. She had just awoken from the most horrible dream. She had been trapped in a land of endless fog, all alone until she had found Zuko. She remembered the joy she felt to have finally seen his face again, the only human face she had looked upon for weeks. But when she ran to embrace him, he seemed scared and angry. He kept yelling at her and she couldn't figure out why before she awoke.

An icy tear slid down her cheek. She tried to restrain herself, but she couldn't help it. She buried her face into her knees and let her sorrows soak into the fabric of her trousers. She wept, for she knew nobody would come to her rescue. Anyone she would've been able to call friend or family she had alienated, estranged by trying to enfetter them in fear. Now she was the one wearing shackles.

"_What are these?!_" a smoldering ember in her heart hissed, "_The sniveling whines of some sobbing school girl! You are Azula! Queen of the Fire Nation! Your one and __**only**__ fault was in not taking after your ' __**darling**__ ' father, for underestimating the triumphant power of love, adoration—godhood! Yes, your father was worshiped as a god!_"

That spark of her former self had begun to die in this frigid fortress of solitude, replaced by a vacuum of despair. She realized that she had gambled away the true kind of love, the love that would have saved her from this frozen abode and her father from the fate that now seized him. For all his 'divinity', no one had come to save him from his destiny; one worse than death. Yes, she had seen it. She couldn't have imagined a worse punishment than losing one's bending, a part of one's self.

She bit her lip and shivered from more than just the cold. She didn't want to remember what she had seen in her last days on Fire Nation soil. She wanted only to remember the faces of the ones she had the nearest facsimile of love for. Even the once tormenting visions of her tender, sweet mother would have been welcomed instead of the apparitions that now haunted her; the tall, ghostly forms of men in grey robes, bearing only blank metal faces full of questions and queries that she could not remember the next morning. She wanted only to remember the faces of Ty Lee, Mai...Zuko—though she was now beginning to forget what they looked like.

Above all, she wanted desperately for one of them, any of them, to deliver her from this—what did they call it? _Helheim_?


End file.
